L^Wf| 
 
 !** OP 
 
 . MMMHDJ
 
 *
 
 TWELVE GREAT ARTISTS
 
 WELVE 
 GREAT 
 ARTISTS 
 
 WILLIAM HOWE DOWNES 
 
 LITTLE, BROWN 
 AND COMPANY - SMVCCCC
 
 Copyright, 1900, by 
 
 LITTLE, BROWN, 
 AND COMPANY 
 
 All Rights Reserved 
 
 University Press John Wilson 
 and Son Cambridge, U. S. A.
 
 Author's Note 
 
 of a ^ast mass of newspaper 
 articles, the majority of Ttohich 
 must in the nature of the case be of 
 ephemeral interest only, I have taken 
 the twelve papers here collected, be- 
 cause they seem fittest to survive the 
 life of an hour. Whatever 'teas hasty, 
 excessive, or trivial, has been cut out, 
 after a long seasoning process, and, as 
 the chapters no^t> stand, they represent 
 fairly and fully my best artistic intui- 
 tions and my strongest convictions. 
 
 A good reason for rescuing any good 
 thing from the limbo of old newspaper 
 files should be ft&ofotd. It must, in the 
 first place, have reference to a question 
 of more than transitory importance;
 
 AUTHOR'S NOTE 
 
 and in the second place it must be dealt 
 faith seriously, sincerely* and compe- 
 tently. 
 
 A still more intimate reason for being 
 may be cited in behalf of this little book. 
 These essays are in a peculiar sense the 
 expression of my oJbn personal prefer- 
 ences and sympathies; and although I 
 am far from being abot>e the desire to 
 please,, the Y&ords here uttered are in- 
 spired by a deeper motive that of 
 being completely loyal to my best ideals 
 of sweetness and light It is in tain that 
 we journalists cultivate the lifelong pro- 
 fessional habit of merging ourselves in 
 the impersonal editorial entity; a man's 
 a man for a that, and, as a man, he 
 has his opinions, faiths, enthusiasms, 
 which are a part of him. Of course, if 
 these be worth printing, it is because of
 
 AUTHOR'S NOTE 
 
 their individuality, in form as Itoell as 
 in essence. 
 
 44 A Day with Hats" Ttoas the bulk 
 of a letter Written from Holland in the 
 summer of J89L The fragmentary 
 chapters on Rembrandt and Rubens be- 
 long to the same period and the same 
 series of letters from Holland and Bel- 
 gium. The chapter about Fortuny is 
 composed of the best part of a letter 
 from New York, Written at the time of 
 the exhibition and sale of the Stewart 
 collection. The fragment frith regard 
 to Daubigny is new, and fras added 
 simply because I could not bear to write 
 a book Without putting into it some- 
 thing of what I feel for the work of 
 that incomparable landscape painter. 
 My attention fras drawn to Fdicien 
 Rops and his frorks by my friend Mr.
 
 AUTHOR'S NOTE 
 
 S. R Koehler, Curator of the print de- 
 partment, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, 
 tbho furnished me with the opportunities 
 to study the engravings and lithographs 
 of that singular genius. The chapter 
 about Boutet de Monvel is very little 
 changed from its original form, and the 
 same thing is true of the paper on St. 
 Gaudens's Shatb Monument As for 
 the essays on Winslolto Homer, George 
 Inness, and John LaFarge, they are 
 mosaics, patiently put together, com- 
 posed of a great number of parts taken 
 from many different articles, Written at 
 intervals years apart, but, as may be 
 seen, not unrelated. Portions of three 
 articles, printed at internals of a few 
 days, in 1899, ha^e been joined to 
 form the chapter on John Sargent's por- 
 traits. 
 
 8
 
 AUTHOR'S NOTE 
 
 It is Ifoith more than a perfunctory 
 sentiment of gratitude that I acknoltol- 
 edge the courtesy of the Boston Tran- 
 script Company in giving me permission 
 to reprint the larger part of the matter 
 contained in this volume. 
 
 WILLIAM HOWE DOWNES. 
 Boston, May, 1900.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Page 
 
 A Day with Hals J5 
 
 Rembrandt at Home ... 35 
 
 Rubens 49 
 
 Fortuny 57 
 
 Daubigny . * . 7J 
 
 Felicien Rops .......... 79 
 
 Boutet de Monvel * 93 
 
 Winslow Homer JOS 
 
 St. Gaudens's Shaw Monument . . . J29 
 
 George Inness's Landscapes ...... J45 
 
 John La Farge J53 
 
 John Sargent's Portraits J65
 
 A DAY WITH HALS
 
 Twelve Great Artists 
 
 A DAY WITH HALS 
 
 OF the many qualities desirable in a 
 portrait, the most essential is like- 
 ness. This supreme merit has been 
 possessed in the highest degree by the 
 great portrait painters of all times, by 
 Holbein, Van Dyck, Titian, Raphael, 
 Velasquez, Rembrandt, and Hals, and 
 by the lesser great men of later days; 
 and it is a pre-eminent characteristic of 
 the work of the Dutch old masters. By 
 likeness I do not mean a literal and 
 superficial resemblance, but the most 
 complete truthfulness and fidelity to the 
 character and expression of the sitter. 
 Whatever defects may be found in the 
 works of the old Dutch portrait painters, 
 they are so universally honest, truthful, 
 
 J5
 
 A DAY WITH HALS 
 
 trustworthy, that as biographical and 
 historical documents they may be ac- 
 cepted implicitly. It is one of the most 
 surprising experiences that comes to the 
 student of the history of art in the gal- 
 leries of Holland to discover such rare ex- 
 cellences in the paintings of many ancient 
 artists absolutely unknown to fame. 
 
 Not many years ago, soon after 
 Eugene Fromentin had issued his bril- 
 liant and authoritative volume of criti- 
 cism on "Les Maitres d'Autrefois," the 
 world of artists jubilantly rediscovered 
 the almost forgotten master Frans Hals, 
 Inasmuch as he is the undisputed prince 
 of painters among his countrymen, and 
 excels particularly in those great groups 
 of life-size figures known in Holland 
 as Regenten-Stukken, or Corporation- 
 pieces, a class of portrait paintings 
 brought to singular perfection in his 
 
 16
 
 A DAY WITH HALS 
 
 time and school, it will be worth 
 while to say a few words about these 
 peculiarly Dutch productions in general 
 before proceeding to a particular con- 
 sideration of his works* 
 
 These life-size portrait groups, in the 
 painting of which not only Hals and 
 Rembrandt and Van der Heist, but 
 many others, such as Van Ravesteyn, 
 Flinck, and De Keyser, distinguished 
 themselves, contain sometimes as many 
 as thirty or forty half-length or three- 
 quarters-length figures* In many cases 
 these figures are to be seen gathered 
 about the festive banquet board, and 
 are depicted in the acts of eating, drink- 
 ing, conversation, song, and laughter. 
 Sometimes they are represented in a 
 solemn business conclave, discussing the 
 weighty affairs of commerce which come 
 before boards of directors; again they 
 
 2 17
 
 A DAY WITH HALS 
 
 are seen assembling in the armory of 
 some shooting club, preparing to sally 
 forth in gaudy regimentals for a parade 
 and target competition; or it may be 
 that they are pictured as they listen to 
 a lecture on anatomy by a distinguished 
 surgeon; but there are not a few in- 
 stances in which they are merely posed 
 in a group without any pretence of 
 being there for any other purpose than 
 that of having their likenesses painted. 
 In every Dutch art museum of any con- 
 sequence are hung imposing specimens 
 of this difficult sort of painting, vast 
 canvases filled with living personages 
 of an unquestionable Dutch stamp. In 
 The Hague, for instance, at the old 
 and drowsy Municipal Museum, not 
 far from the Mauritshuis, little visited 
 by the hurried traveller, is a large gal- 
 lery full of Jan Van Ravesteyn's paint- 
 
 JS
 
 A DAY WITH HALS 
 
 ings. It is safe to say that few people 
 have ever heard of this artist, yet his 
 Regenten-Stukken are wonders of life- 
 size portraiture on a grand scale, mas- 
 terly and superb works. And in the 
 huge Rijks-Museum at Amsterdam a 
 long double suite of lofty alcoves in 
 the great Hall of Honor is crowded by 
 large paintings of the same class, signed 
 by a score of names seldom heard 
 outside of Holland. It is needless to 
 allude in detail to such famous examples 
 of Corporation-pieces as Rembrandt's 
 much-misunderstood " Night Watch," 
 his ponderous " Syndics/' his "Anat- 
 omy Lecture," or to Van der Heist's 
 brilliant and interesting banqueting scene, 
 all of which are intended for nothing 
 more nor less than portrait works. 
 These few more celebrated canvases 
 loom above the rest of their kind be- 
 
 19
 
 A DAY WITH HALS 
 
 cause of great imaginative qualities, 
 great intellectual qualities, glorious color, 
 or pronounced individuality ; but it may 
 be said that, as far as painting goes, if 
 we can narrow our view so as to look 
 only at the craftsmanship, they are but 
 so many drops in the Dutch bucket, 
 where great workmanship is the rule 
 rather than the exception, the school 
 being greater than any man in it. 
 
 It is in Haarlem, only a few miles 
 from Amsterdam, that Hals must be 
 studied. One might as well claim to 
 know Velasquez without having been 
 in Madrid, Rubens without having been 
 in Antwerp, or Rembrandt without hav- 
 ing been in Amsterdam, as to assume 
 any familiarity with Hals without hav- 
 ing paid a visit to the tranquil little city 
 of Haarlem, which was his home, and 
 
 which should be the Mecca of every 
 20
 
 A DAY WITH HALS 
 
 artist's pilgrimage. A day in the gal- 
 lery of the quaint town-hall, where his 
 magnificent row of large portrait groups 
 hangs, is one of the richest treats that 
 Europe has to offer to whomsoever ap- 
 preciates the art of painting. Neither 
 Madrid nor Antwerp, with their more 
 than regal treasures of art, causes a 
 more lasting impression of individual 
 greatness. Frans Hals may be ranked, 
 as a portrait painter, alongside of the 
 greatest, not only for his unexcelled vir- 
 tuosity, in which he is allowed to be a 
 passed master, and the peer of Rubens 
 and Veronese, but also for his elegance 
 and distinction of style, his profound 
 knowledge of human nature, his irre- 
 sistible ajid contagious humor, his grasp 
 of character, and his phenomenal capa- 
 city to express the most elusive and 
 subtile personal traits. 
 
 2)
 
 A DAY WITH HALS 
 
 The fine things, in a more technical 
 sense, about Hals's paintings, are their 
 tremendous spirit and vivacity; their 
 ease, dash, fluency, bravura ; their won- 
 derful freedom and looseness of touch; 
 their splendid breadth and largeness of 
 effect; their brilliant and mellow color; 
 their firm, true, and bold draughtsman- 
 ship; their infallibly good arrangement. 
 Difficulties seem not to have existed for 
 him ; or, rather, to have existed simply 
 to give him the joy of overcoming them. 
 There has never been a painter in any 
 school or age who understood better and 
 controlled more fully the resources of 
 his art. He was a magician of the 
 brush. 
 
 The young French and American art- 
 ists who, moved by Fromentin's elo- 
 quence, have talked Hals, preached Hals, 
 
 and tried in vain to paint Hals, have 
 22
 
 A DAY WITH HALS 
 
 made a mistake which is not unnatural, 
 and this mistake is in supposing that 
 Hals was merely a skilful technician. 
 His skill, it is true, is worthy of all they 
 have said, of all they can say of it, but 
 when they stop there they tell only half 
 the story. An executant of the first 
 order, with all that that implies, Hals 
 was not only that; he was moreover 
 an intellectual man and a person of 
 sentiment and imagination. What he 
 had to say was as remarkable and as 
 well worth saying as his way of saying 
 it was fine and grand and powerful. 
 This is one of the significant things 
 that a journey to Haarlem reveals, and 
 it confirms my belief that first-class 
 technique and first-class mental endow- 
 ments go together ; that good workman- 
 ship presupposes intellectual force in the 
 workman; and that there is no way 
 
 23
 
 A DAY WITH HALS 
 
 for a painter to prove his superiority of 
 mind and heart so satisfactorily as by 
 painting well. 
 
 Now let me tell you in a few words 
 of the impression made by the gallery of 
 portraits in Haarlem* Beginning near 
 the door where visitors enter the room, 
 the great line of pictures by Hals is 
 hung in chronological order, so that 
 they give a complete resume of the paint- 
 er's career from the period of his first 
 youthful successes up to his extreme old 
 age, in which he painted, like Titian, 
 better than ever. This unexampled 
 showing of the life-work of a great artist, 
 all brought together as a permanent 
 monument to his fame, in his own city, 
 is, it may well be supposed, most inter- 
 esting and imposing. One sees here, 
 far more clearly than in reading all the 
 biographies and criticisms possible, the 
 
 24
 
 A DAY WITH HALS 
 
 growth, development, and maturity of 
 this extraordinary talent* All its stages 
 are defined, all its idiosyncrasies illus- 
 trated and explained. The man and the 
 artist are mirrored forth from boyhood to 
 senility with the utmost vividness, 
 
 It is hard to say to which period of 
 such a prodigious painter's career belong 
 the brightest honors. Already great in 
 his young days, he seems to have climbed 
 steadily from triumph to triumph, with- 
 out retrogression and without faltering. 
 The earliest paintings naturally show 
 the most careful regard for finish; the 
 intermediate works are more confidently 
 executed; and those of the last period 
 are still more broadly and loosely painted, 
 It is the usual order of progression. Hals, 
 with all his power of indicating much 
 by a few strokes, did not disdain finish, 
 nor did he ever intentionally slight de- 
 
 25
 
 A DAY WITH HALS 
 
 tails; and although he understood so 
 well the useful principle of sacrifices, he 
 knew just when and where to apply 
 it, and just when and where not to apply 
 it. He always placed the right emphasis 
 in the most telling place* None of his 
 works, not even the most summary, look 
 unfinished, careless, or slovenly. He 
 could be superbly dashing in his man- 
 ner, none more so, but it is perfectly 
 obvious that he always knew precisely 
 what he was about, never forgot him- 
 self, coolly calculated all his effects, and 
 succeeded in stirring others without los- 
 ing his own sang frotd. In a word, he 
 was thoroughly well balanced* 
 
 His paintings are as florid and beauti- 
 ful in color as they are lively in move- 
 ment and animated in expression. The 
 range and diversity of his tones are ex- 
 traordinary. The resources of his pal- 
 
 26
 
 A DAY WITH HALS 
 
 ctte are boundless. The flesh in the 
 faces and hands of his subjects; their 
 gay costumes of fine fabrics in brown, 
 yellow, red, orange, green, blue, purple, 
 gray, and white; the splendid banners 
 and waving plumes of his gallant revel- 
 lers; the costly tableware, china, glass, 
 silver, snowy damask, juicy fruits, and 
 other appetizing edibles; the tempting 
 array of wines, all these are combined 
 with a boldness and a knowledge of 
 harmonious contrasts which remind one 
 of Paul Veronese. The eyes rove with 
 unspeakable delight over these great ex- 
 panses of flaming and flashing color. 
 
 The ease and adroitness of Hals's 
 handiwork are of those delectable quali- 
 ties that never become otherwise than 
 enjoyable. The touch, which is unlike 
 any other painter's, has something piquant 
 and capricious about it. Light as a 
 
 27
 
 A DAY WITH HALS 
 
 feather here, firm as the everlasting hills 
 there; now deliberate, now rapid as a 
 lightning-flash; whatever change may 
 be rung upon it, it is always right, always 
 fit. 
 
 This superior work is not by any 
 means spent on trivial or uninteresting 
 or unworthy subjects. The groups of 
 people seen in Hals's Corporation-pieces 
 are, like the upper-class Dutch of to-day, 
 genial, handsome, happy, possessing the 
 finest complexions to be found anywhere 
 outside of England, and, what is more, 
 they are persons of intelligence and good 
 breeding. Here we have a grand dinner- 
 party of a company of gallant muske- 
 teers who are just assembling. Two 
 friends meet and shake hands, smiling 
 and jolly, beaming with joyous anticipa- 
 tions of a social evening, good cheer of 
 meat and drink, of story and song. 
 
 28
 
 A DAY WITH HALS 
 
 What amiable and contented expressions 
 light up the visages of these good fel- 
 lows I Merely to see them is enough to 
 put one in a good humor with the world. 
 Portraits like this are more than por- 
 traits. The personages are so striking 
 and remarkable in so many ways that 
 they rise to the dignity and importance 
 of historic characters. Hals has the 
 faculty of interesting everybody in his 
 people. Instead of admiring a series of 
 effigies, as clever counterfeits of men, the 
 observer finds himself speculating about 
 their lives and fortunes, envying their 
 sunny temperament, approving their 
 charming urbanity and cordiality, mar- 
 velling at their overflowing vitality and 
 effervescent animal spirits, and wishing 
 to be better acquainted with them. The 
 old phrase " a speaking likeness " is ex- 
 ceptionally applicable to all of Hals's 
 
 29
 
 A DAY WITH HALS 
 
 people, who are the most loquacious of 
 the inhabitants of the country of art. 
 In looking at them it is easy to fancy 
 that one overhears scraps of jovial con- 
 versation, amidst a cheerful hum of 
 dinner-table chat, with occasional out- 
 bursts of hearty laughter. There are 
 serious faces, too, faces of an intelli- 
 gent and refined cast, types of solid and 
 manly character. Whatever the ex- 
 pression may be, it is the tremendous 
 vitality which leaves the most durable 
 impression on the memory. Life is the 
 Alpha and Omega of Frans Hals's art. 
 
 Toward the end of the series are two 
 groups of elderly people, the directors 
 of some charitable institutions, a group 
 of men and a group of women. These 
 were painted when Hals was quite old. 
 They are among the most interesting 
 pictures to be seen in Holland. The 
 
 30
 
 A DAY WITH HALS 
 
 handling, which is in the painter's most 
 ragged and sketchy manner, is an ex- 
 treme instance of a great practician's 
 suggestive shorthand* Near at hand, 
 nothing but a few rapid and unintel- 
 ligible brush marks; from a point half- 
 way across the gallery these hieroglyphics 
 take form and substance, and become 
 miraculously transformed into living and 
 breathing human beings, creations of 
 art whose intensity of life insures their 
 immortality. 
 
 3J
 
 REMBRANDT AT HOME
 
 REMBRANDT AT HOME 
 
 A DISMAL afternoon, with gusts of 
 cold wind and an intermittent 
 drizzle. The streets of Amsterdam, 
 dark and dull in the best of weather, 
 are more than ever gloomy and forbid- 
 ding. Black houses, black canals, black 
 clothes, black pavements, and black skies. 
 From the broad Wetering-Schans, look- 
 ing across the bridge and the Stadhoud- 
 ers-Kade, the unending brick facade of 
 the new Rijks-Museum looms, ponder- 
 ous, cheerless, like a storage-warehouse. 
 At the doors a knot of peasants, endi- 
 manches, in their sombre North Holland 
 costumes, are entering the vast treasure- 
 house, open-mouthed, ready to laugh 
 over Jan Steen's broad sarcasms, to 
 marvel ingenuously over Gerard Dow's 
 microscopic finish, and to recognize their 
 
 35
 
 REMBRANDT AT HOME 
 
 own prototypes in the physiognomies 
 of Adrian Van Ostade's pippin-cheeked 
 little people. 
 
 A climb up the shadowy stone stairs 
 brings one to the great antechamber, 
 from which the long Gallery of Honor 
 opens, extending entirely across the 
 middle of the building to the Rembrandt 
 room. Far away, through this stately 
 vista, appears the immortal "Night 
 Watch/* glowing like a distant gleam 
 of mellow and vibrating sunlight in a 
 dark place. At first the illusion is almost 
 perfect. It is hard to realize that this 
 warm and radiant burst of light is not 
 the actual light of day shining in through 
 some unseen window. So dramatic is 
 the effect that the turbulent action of 
 Captain Cocq and his men seems part 
 and parcel of the movement of the throng 
 in the gallery. The illusion is aided by 
 
 36
 
 REMBRANDT AT HOME 
 
 every detail of the hanging and lighting. 
 No picture in the world is more royally 
 placed. It receives the light from a lofty 
 skylight, and the middle of the room is 
 darkened by a large canopy, so that the 
 visitor looks from the shaded part of the 
 gallery into the illuminated part. The 
 painting is hung so low that the bottom 
 of the carved and panelled wooden frame 
 rests on the floor. The picture, eleven 
 by fourteen feet in dimensions, is tilted 
 very slightly forward from the wall, and 
 no reflections from its varnished surface 
 detract from its depth of atmosphere. 
 
 The "Night Watch" is not a Night 
 Watch. The most unmistakable thing 
 about the picture is the sunlight in it. 
 Late afternoon is the time o* day; the 
 warm level rays color the atmosphere 
 and envelop all objects in a tender 
 amber veil. It was this light which in- 
 
 37
 
 REMBRANDT AT HOME 
 
 terested the painter, absorbed him, to the 
 exclusion of everything else; he sacri- 
 ficed everything to beauty of tone and 
 produced a riot of warm color, with 
 atmospheric gold for its keynote. Por- 
 traiture, grouping, arrangement, and all 
 that, which he understood so well, goes 
 for nothing. No interest in the character 
 as such. It is all an effect, an effect 
 of light, which is surpassingly beautiful, 
 and unlike anything else in art any- 
 where. It intoxicates the eye, without 
 rhyme or reason. After seeing it, go 
 home, for sane and correct art has lost 
 its savor for the time, and is cold, trite, 
 and tiresome. Van der Heist is like 
 milk-and-water. 
 
 It is no wonder that orderly and 
 logical minds like Fromentin's falter 
 and stumble when they endeavor to in- 
 terpret such oracles as these. They can 
 38
 
 REMBRANDT AT HOME 
 
 not reconcile the result with the means 
 used to obtain it. Criticism has black- 
 ened its own eyes by running against 
 the " Night Watch/' Why not cut the 
 Gordian knot by saying genius has these 
 unaccountable flights and need not ex- 
 plain itself? Surely, no work of art 
 known is more utterly original, apart, 
 unique; none more wholly defies cold- 
 blooded analysis and " scientific " criti- 
 cism. Who shall undertake to say in 
 what exalted vision the mighty dreamer 
 saw that glory of liquid, molten, trans- 
 parent gold, unreal as the celestial pic- 
 tures woven in sleep for those who love 
 beauty? and who shall say in what 
 delirium he dared to attempt the impos- 
 sible task of uttering the unutterable? 
 The suggestion of that vision, with all 
 its shortcomings, is worth crossing the 
 Atlantic to see. No engraving, etching, 
 
 39
 
 REMBRANDT AT HOME 
 
 photograph, or reproduction of whatever 
 sort gives the remotest idea of it. No 
 one can know Rembrandt without going 
 to Amsterdam* 
 
 The famous group of the six directors 
 of the Netherlands Dry Goods Trust, 
 commonly known as "The Syndics," 
 is less well painted than the excellent 
 reproductions lead one to expect. It 
 was done when Rembrandt was fifty- 
 five years old, eight years before his 
 death; at that time his color was ex- 
 tremely hot and florid ; again everything 
 is sacrificed to an ideal of color, arbitrary, 
 unnatural, ruddy ; but here we have to 
 do with straight portrait-painting, and 
 it therefore requires a certain amount of 
 effort to get into the proper mood to 
 accept the conventional tone. What I 
 mean to say is that, as a portrait painter, 
 Rembrandt could be so admirably per- 
 
 40
 
 REMBRANDT AT HOME 
 
 feet, as respects observation of character, 
 penetration, fidelity, the representation of 
 the mind in the face; he could be so 
 lucid, simple, logical, and exhaustive, that 
 this game of Rouge-et-Noir is at first 
 view rather disconcerting. One can 
 hardly hope to make this feeling clear 
 without emphasizing the general excel- 
 lence of the Dutch Regenten-Stukken, 
 or corporation pictures; for, what with 
 Frans Hals at Haarlem, Jan Van Rave- 
 steyn at The Hague, Bartholomew Van 
 der Heist at Amsterdam, these old giants 
 make one difficult to please in the matter 
 of life-size groups. 
 
 "The Syndics " makes such a fine 
 black-and-white, too, that the feeling of 
 having seen it before is uncommonly 
 strong. A good photograph gives you 
 the idea of it: the gravity and intelli- 
 gence of the six well-to-do cloth mer- 
 
 4t
 
 REMBRANDT AT HOME 
 
 chants, that aspect of dignity, austerity, 
 and personal weight of character. How 
 deeply quiet, sober, modest, genuine, 
 genuine is the word for it, and yet 
 how full of ardent life ! I think " The 
 Syndics " is the best picture in the world 
 of a first-class group of business men, 
 men of affairs. It is a commentary, an 
 exposition, and a revelation of Dutch 
 commerce, probity, success, wealth, 
 power, and influence. Fancy a man 
 who could paint all that and more into 
 a group of portraits, and who could also 
 conceive the " Night Watch/' a pure 
 fantasy, and the " Anatomy Lesson/' 
 and those divine little Biblical scenes, 
 all alive with humanity, pathos, love, 
 suffering, joy, 
 
 " All thoughts, all passions, all delights, 
 Whatever stirs this mortal frame." 
 42
 
 REMBRANDT AT HOME 
 
 I admire Rembrandt's early portraits 
 more than his late ones, for they seem 
 to be better likenesses, and are painted 
 with more scrupulous care* They are 
 more truthful, which is, of course, a 
 supreme merit in a portrait* Take, for 
 instance, the portrait of Mrs* Elizabeth 
 Jacobs Bas, the widow of Admiral Swar- 
 tenhout, in the Van de Poll room of the 
 Rijks-Museum. This represents an old 
 lady, seated, three-quarters-length; is 
 largely executed in black and white and 
 brown; very simple; extremely con- 
 scientious; individuality strong and un- 
 mistakable; tone cool and discreet* It 
 is a triumph of close observation and of 
 intelligent statement; and no one who 
 has seen it can forget Elizabeth Bas* 
 Fine as the artist's broader and looser 
 style is, he is at his best as a portraitist 
 when he takes the most pains, studies 
 
 43
 
 REMBRANDT AT HOME 
 
 his sitter with the greatest deliberation, 
 and paints in his coolest manner. 
 
 The fiery tone of *"The Syndics " 
 and of " The Jewish Bride " is an inten- 
 tional and lawful departure from the imi- 
 tation of nature, but it is an excess and a 
 mannerism. In the minds of some ama- 
 teurs it constitutes the greatest merit of 
 Rembrandt; it is to them his chief hall- 
 mark of genius ; they are at least always 
 sure to recognize it; it is handy as a 
 signature; and thus they fall easy prey 
 to the counterfeiters. I have seen alleged 
 Rembrandts of a coppery tone, which 
 were very badly painted, and which had 
 nothing to say. It is possible that Rem- 
 brandt did paint them; for he certainly 
 was capable of painting a bad "picture. 
 It is only your mediocre men who strike 
 twelve every time. 
 
 "The Anatomy Lesson " is a noble 
 
 44
 
 REMBRANDT AT HOME 
 
 example of intellectual portraiture* It 
 sets forth the absolute dispassionateness 
 of the scientific mind. Its style is ele- 
 vated, serious, lucid, and virile; and 
 although it is the work of the most 
 imaginative of painters, it is all in prose, 
 and without exaltation. It is not more 
 skilful than certain life-si^e groups by 
 other Dutchmen, but it is more sensitive, 
 subtle, profound. Rembrandt was only 
 twenty-six when he painted this dissect- 
 ing-room scene. It is a great picture in 
 its way, but it only foreshadowed the 
 greater pictures to come, "Simeon in 
 the Temple" is also an early work 
 which is full of interest for its personal 
 sentiment, its suggestiveness, and its 
 typical character. A dark, solemn in- 
 terior, with lofty arches, aisles and walls 
 vaguely visible; a broad flight of steps 
 where groups of little figures have gath- 
 
 45
 
 REMBRANDT AT HOME 
 
 ered ; and in the middle a stream of light 
 falling from an unseen window upon 
 the principal personages, Simeon, in a 
 rich robe, holding the child Jesus in his 
 arms, and kneeling with upturned eyes 
 (a venerable and striking figure); the 
 Virgin at his side, on her knees; the 
 high priest, arrayed in splendid vest- 
 ments, raising his arms to pronounce a 
 blessing upon the divine infant; and 
 Joseph, with a couple of rabbis, all 
 this has the traditional and recognizable 
 Rembrandt flavor in its original purity, 
 and it is exceedingly choice. 
 
 46
 
 RUBENS
 
 RUBENS 
 
 new art museum in Antwerp 
 is now as much the headquarters 
 for old Flemish art as the Rijks-Museum 
 at Amsterdam is for old Dutch art. 
 The huge Renaissance building, with 
 its twenty-two picture galleries, contains 
 all the best examples of the Belgian big 
 and little masters which were once scat- 
 tered throughout Antwerp, in churches, 
 monasteries, chateaux, and town hall* 
 The collection of paintings, numbering 
 more than a thousand, puts Antwerp 
 well up toward the front in the gener- 
 ous competition for artistic pre-eminence ; 
 and this is as it should be in the home 
 of Peter Paul Rubens. No one can 
 claim to know Rubens hereafter without 
 seeing his masterpieces in the Antwerp 
 Palace of the Fine Arts. 
 
 4 49
 
 RUBENS 
 
 This applies particularly to two pic- 
 tures, the " Coup de Lance " and the 
 " Communion of Saint Francis of Assisi." 
 The furious and magnificent brio of the 
 " Coup de Lance " is unparalleled* For 
 brilliance of color, vigor of action, and 
 dramatic intensity it stands alone* It 
 excites the beholder by its blaze of color 
 like a royal banner flaunting in the sun- 
 light and the breeze, like a sudden clarion 
 strain of martial music calling a host to 
 arms. It takes away the breath. It is 
 overpowering. Mary Magdalene on 
 her knees weeping at the foot of the 
 cross is one of the most beautiful and 
 most affecting figures ever painted by 
 this potent prince of art. The Roman 
 officer on his dapple-gray horse giving 
 the spear-thrust is a superb type of 
 cruelty. The struggles of the bad thief 
 on the cross are depicted with unspeak- 
 
 50
 
 RUBENS 
 
 able power. In comparison with this 
 resonant and inspired work, in which 
 the skill and knowledge and passion of 
 a glorious lifetime are summed up in a 
 tremendous artistic climax, the two cele- 
 brated paintings in the cathedral of Ant- 
 werp dwindle into relative insignificance. 
 "The Elevation of the Cross " and 
 44 The Descent from the Cross/' in front 
 of which groups of reverent travellers 
 worship daily from year to year, are in 
 a bad light, it is true, but even in favor- 
 able surroundings it is doubtful if they 
 could stand the test of a comparison 
 with the "Coup de Lance/' 
 
 Two pictures could hardly be more 
 unlike than the "Coup de Lance " and 
 the "Communion of Saint Francis of 
 Assisi." The latter is painted almost 
 wholly in a rich scale of quiet brown 
 tones, and it is pre-eminently a picture 
 
 51
 
 RUBENS 
 
 of tragic sentiment, in which the artist, 
 more than in any other work, gave free 
 rein to his consciousness of the sadness 
 of death. Saint Francis, dying, has been 
 brought to the altar to receive the bread 
 of heaven. There he kneels, supported 
 tenderly by two of his brethren, and sur- 
 rounded by a group of the monks of his 
 order, who are vainly endeavoring to 
 keep back their tears. The working of 
 grief in the lineaments of these robust 
 men is indescribably pathetic. There 
 are few pictures by the great masters 
 of expression which appeal more touch- 
 ingly to the sympathies of the observer. 
 The false popular impression regarding 
 Rubens, which credits him with nothing 
 more exalted than the representation of 
 carnal, material, and pagan beauty, of 
 the earth earthy, is completely and finally 
 refuted by this sacred work of feeling. 
 
 52
 
 RUBENS 
 
 Fromentin was deeply touched by the 
 " Communion of Saint Francis of Assisi/' 
 and devoted to it one of his most heart- 
 felt pages. 
 
 53
 
 FORTUNY
 
 FORTUNY 
 
 THE name of Mariano Fortuny is 
 one to conjure with. He had but 
 a brief career, painted few pictures, and 
 when he died, at the age of thirty-six, 
 he left a great reputation, which has 
 not shrunk in the last twenty years. 
 Fortuny stands for all that is techni- 
 cally brilliant in the modern art of 
 painting; he founded the "school of 
 the hand/* as Yriarte called it ; he was 
 the father of the whole brood of vir- 
 tuosi like Zamacois, Domingo, Madrazo, 
 Rico, Boldini. He was responsible for 
 the thing of chiffons and bibelots that 
 we call the Hispano-Roman water-color 
 school. He was a sun-worshipper; he 
 loved light; whatever sparkled attracted 
 him: he was a moth, a Zoroastrian, a 
 civilized savage. He painted without 
 
 57
 
 FORTUNY 
 
 sentiment, without feeling, without sym- 
 pathy. His pictures are still-life pieces, 
 in which a man is a man and a vase is 
 a vase, and one is as good as the 
 other; but so well did he do the work 
 that no one who knows good painting 
 is able to lay it up against him. He 
 was a painter to his finger-tips, and 
 there is a strangely fascinating, barbaric 
 flavor in his best work, which is un- 
 like that of any other artist. Such 
 drawing, such color, such a sense of 
 the character of things, such a com- 
 mand of expression, such a certainty, 
 mastery, ease, and perfection of method 
 rise almost to the plane of the super- 
 human. 
 
 The most characteristic, congenial, 
 racy, and spontaneous picture that For- 
 tuny ever painted, the work by which 
 he can best be estimated and known, 
 
 58
 
 FORTUNY 
 
 that which reveals him in his most inti- 
 mate and natural vein, in a word, the 
 Fortuny par excellence, is the " Arab 
 Fantasia." Although the Spaniards 
 conquered the Moors, the vanquished 
 race exerted an acknowledged influence 
 over the victors. Fortuny was one of 
 those Spaniards so constituted that he 
 understood intuitively the very soul of 
 the Arab, and could set forth by a 
 brush-stroke or two whole volumes of 
 exposition of the spirit of Moorish civ- 
 ilization. It is, therefore, not at all sur- 
 prising that the " Arab Fantasia " should 
 be the Fortuny of Fortunys, and that 
 it should reveal more of the real man 
 and the artist than the "Choix du 
 Modele" or "Les Supplicies." The 
 motive appealed with peculiar force to 
 the temperament and taste of the singu- 
 lar being before whose genius the world 
 
 59
 
 FORTUNY 
 
 of art was to prostrate itself in an 
 ecstasy of admiration and whose virtu- 
 osity actually demanded a new vocabu- 
 lary for its definition. A relatively early 
 example, this wonderful canvas repre- 
 sents a group of four or five Arab 
 warriors going through an extravagant 
 war dance, the purpose of which is to 
 arouse martial ardor by means of the 
 most barbaric motions and noises, such 
 as jumping, whirling, howling, and fir- 
 ing their rifles, with a frenzied abandon. 
 The fantasia is watched with intense 
 interest by a crowd of spectators, includ- 
 ing sheiks, soldiers, idlers, and others, 
 who stand about in their white and 
 colored burnouses. One of the com- 
 pany is mounted on a horse; another 
 has his pet lion with him. Some of 
 the men are excited; others are indiffer- 
 ent; and there are some who appear 
 
 60
 
 FORTUNY 
 
 drowsy* The types of African char- 
 acter are admirable. Though on a 
 small scale, the figures are each and all 
 completely studied portraits, each hav- 
 ing its individual and racial qualities 
 exquisitely rendered. In the dancing 
 maniacs in the foreground, the artist 
 has conveyed an astounding impres- 
 sion of the strenuous movement and 
 wildness of the subject, and the work 
 has been justly called a veritable feat 
 of dash, of dazzling color and energetic 
 action. No words were ever coined 
 fit to describe the "Arab Fantasia/' 
 It is the concentrated essence of For- 
 tuny*s art. 
 
 Compared with the "Fantasia," the 
 celebrated and much discussed "Choice 
 of the Model " is frivolous, shallow, 
 even a little vulgar, what with its rose- 
 pink tones, its rococo furnishings, its 
 
 61
 
 FORTUNY 
 
 superabundance of gaudy Louis XV. 
 properties, and the Dresden china shep- 
 herdess pose of the nude model. Yes, 
 I hope it is not priggish to say that 
 this renowned and marvellous tour de 
 force has a slight but appreciable soupcon 
 of cheapness. It is too precious, too 
 amusing, and, I will venture to say, too 
 evenly well executed in all its parts, 
 to be the unimpeachable work of art. 
 It is a picture which makes not the 
 slightest claim to possess any human 
 interest more than skin-deep, and it is 
 destitute of the first hint or iota of feel- 
 ing. I hold that it is out of date to 
 exalt the silk-stocking school of art. 
 It is hopelessly artificial and inane. 
 The votary of art for art may gape, 
 stare, gesticulate, wag his thumb, and 
 tear his hair over the skilful treatment 
 of surfaces and the dexterous imitation 
 
 62
 
 FORTUNY 
 
 of marbles, bronzes, textiles, and what 
 not ; but I do not find the pompous and 
 superannuated dandies of the "Choix 
 du Modele" interesting, except for a 
 moment, nor am I disposed to condone 
 the heresy of making ormolu, porphyry, 
 satin, and pearl-powder the peers of flesh- 
 and-blood human beings, and of lifting 
 the mise en scene to an importance equal 
 with that of the actors, 
 
 "The Antiquary " is of an old and 
 well-worn genre, but it is painted with 
 an inimitable degree of perfection. In 
 a room littered with bric-a-brac and 
 objects of art, the antiquary sits, with 
 a portfolio in his lap, scrutinizing a rare 
 engraving. Behind him stands a friend, 
 who leans over the back of the chair to 
 glance at the print. Among the things 
 in the room are a jaunty scarlet cockatoo 
 seated on its perch, a suit of Japanese 
 
 63
 
 FORTUNY 
 
 armor, a richly sculptured treasure-chest, 
 a fine red vase, some pieces of Venetian 
 glass, and, in a splendid Florentine frame, 
 hanging over a carved white marble 
 mantelpiece, a painting of a knight in 
 armor, which is really a likeness of Mr. 
 Stewart, the patron for whom the pic- 
 ture was painted. Fortuny, with his 
 extraordinary faculty of observation and 
 his passion for light, was at his best in 
 painting such subjects as "Les Suppli- 
 cies," which figured in the catalogue of 
 the Stewart collection as the "Court 
 of Justice, Alhambra." This beautiful 
 little picture, painted in J87J, is the ad- 
 miration and despair of artists, who can 
 best appreciate the difficulties and possi- 
 bilities of the motive. In a courtyard 
 of the Alhambra, looking into the horse- 
 shoe arch doorway of the exquisite 
 boudoir of Lindaraxa, one of the few 
 
 64
 
 FORTUNY 
 
 remaining perfect bits of the Moresque 
 architecture which Spanish vandalism 
 has spared in that mutilated and white- 
 washed palace, several black criminals 
 lie stretched out on their backs on the 
 sun-scorched pavement, with their feet 
 in the stocks. A negro sentinel, clad in 
 a red and white burnous, and armed 
 with an inlaid rifle, squats, in the bril- 
 liant sunshine, on guard over the prison- 
 ers. In the background sits a stolid 
 Moor on a rug ; there are others farther 
 back in the shade. A distant window 
 opens on the delicate greenery of a little 
 garden. In the foreground, surrounded 
 by a border of deep blue and green glazed 
 tiles, is the small circular basin of a 
 fountain. The cool shadows on the 
 marble contrast with the dazzling pas- 
 sage of sunlight which falls across the 
 walls at the right side of the composi- 
 
 5 65
 
 FORTUNY 
 
 tion. The drawing and coloring of the 
 intricate arabesque reliefs of the walls, 
 the hanging lamps, the tiles and the 
 rugs, are inexpressibly fine* 
 
 I wish that Fortunes life could have 
 been lengthened sufficiently to enable 
 him to complete the beautiful unfinished 
 painting of "The Alberca Court, AI- 
 hambra," with its big oblong basin of 
 water reflecting its arcades, its myrtles, 
 and the splendid Oriental rug hanging 
 over the balustrade of its balcony* This 
 magnificent fragment is laid in, in For- 
 tuny's clear, treble, resonant key; and 
 it is a mosaic of incomparable brightness 
 and lucidity, as gorgeous in color as an 
 old Persian enamel* Another unfinished 
 work was known to the painter's friends 
 as the "Cour des Cochons," for there 
 are some pigs rooting about in the fore- 
 ground* No doubt the sketch shows 
 
 66
 
 FORTUNY 
 
 the part of the Alhambra which was at 
 one time turned into a nest of tenements, 
 where Washington Irving first found a 
 lodging in the house of Tia Antonia. 
 There is nothing in the subject but a 
 few common whitewashed stucco walls 
 and red Spanish tile roofs, plus the sun- 
 light and a superb sky ; but it is one of 
 the most powerful sketches Fortuny left, 
 and, for breadth of handling and depth 
 of tone, is worthy of Vollon. The sky, 
 merely blocked in, is all movement, 
 animation, depth, and grandeur. 
 
 67
 
 DAUBIGNY
 
 DAUBIGNY 
 
 DAUBIGNY is my favorite landscape 
 painter. No doubt there may be 
 others who excel in various regards, but 
 there is none, ancient or modern, who 
 expresses in his work so completely the 
 kind of beauty that appeals to my heart. 
 With those who prefer Corot I have no 
 quarrel, but there are certain landscapes 
 by Daubigny which, although I have not 
 seen them for years, remain fixed in my 
 memory as the most satisfying works of 
 their class in existence. One of these is 
 44 The Cooper's Shop " (or, as it is some- 
 times called, 44 The Forge ") in the col- 
 lection of Mr. Francis Bartlett. Few 
 nobler landscapes have been painted. 
 It says for me the strong and tender 
 things about Nature that I cannot say. 
 
 There is in it a world of fine manly sen- 
 n
 
 DAUBIGNY 
 
 timent. It is full of life and intelligence. 
 It has, in its highest expression, that 
 sense of the meditative, brooding, twilight 
 aspect of the world which is the peculiar 
 realm of Daubigny's art. Yet it is dis- 
 tinctly melancholy, as so many of the 
 great, true things must be. 
 
 It is difficult to define the charm of 
 a painter so simple as Daubigny. In 
 order to set forth his qualities satisfac- 
 torily, one would need to be equally 
 simple, made of the same stuff. I feel 
 that his genuineness is more invincible 
 than that of other painters ; he is genu- 
 ineness itself. He is grave and reserved ; 
 he never utters a superfluous phrase. In 
 their poise, harmony, and serenity, his 
 works are Greek. They impress me 
 like the modest sayings of one who is 
 wise and gentle. The absence of arti- 
 fice and of rhetoric is admirable ; it adds 
 
 72
 
 DAUBIGNY 
 
 to the weight and authority with which 
 he speaks. Painters must love his pic- 
 tures. He is robust, virile, and strong, 
 but never uncouth or brutal. In a 
 word, he is a Man. 
 
 By seeking the truth, without egotism 
 and without prejudice, Daubigny builded 
 better than he knew. An artist of such 
 firm fibre, working along the right lines, 
 may well leave his ideal to express it- 
 self. If I read Daubigny's thought 
 aright, it is as good as gold. And there 
 is that in it which belongs solely to him. 
 Can any trace of foreign influences be 
 found in his style? He is like neither 
 the Dutch nor the English landscapists, 
 and he is still farther away from the 
 Italians. His landscapes are as sponta- 
 neous as those of Constable, but there all 
 resemblance ends. Nature is mirrored 
 naturally, but her visage is glorified by the 
 
 73
 
 DAUBIGNY 
 
 filial spirit of the workman. Under the 
 delightfully free, broad, and knowing exe- 
 cution of the surface of his pictures there 
 is a fund of pure and ardent emotion, a 
 spring of deep and tender love, which 
 has not its exact parallel anywhere. 
 
 Daubigny is pre-eminently the poet of 
 the river. Who has painted its slow 
 current gliding stealthily under the shad- 
 ows of rocky and wooded shores, as he 
 has? Who has so felt the beauty of 
 the velvet dark pool where the stream 
 loiters in the morning coolness of its 
 coves? Who has looked with such 
 reverent and loving eyes upon its flash- 
 ing splendors beneath the fading light 
 of evening? Who has grasped the 
 aspect of sedgy shallows with such in- 
 timate truth? Who has so exquisitely 
 suggested the river's mysteries, or so 
 nobly interpreted the majestic seaward 
 
 74
 
 DAUBIGNY 
 
 flow of its flood ? He has given to the 
 Oise a fame that will extend as far as 
 the frontiers of art extend. 
 
 We are not talking of the Daubignys 
 of the shops. A good example of Dau- 
 bigny is as well finished as a self-respect- 
 ing picture needs to be. There was 
 one of his works in the Seney sale of 
 J89J which represented a village on the 
 Oise : a greater perfection of color, light, 
 and atmosphere could hardly be imag- 
 ined. This canvas had been in the ex- 
 hibition of one hundred masterpieces in 
 Paris in 1883; it was dated J875. The 
 small pictures in the Ames collection, 
 Boston, a "Village Church," "Soldi 
 Couchant," and, above all, "Le Petit 
 Pont/' are of similar excellence. In 
 these compact pictures Daubigny forgets 
 to be imposing, but he is incomparably 
 charming. 
 
 75
 
 FELIOEN ROPS
 
 FELICIEN ROPS 
 
 FELIOEN ROPS was a great picto- 
 rial genius. He was described by 
 one of his biographers as a Belgian by 
 birth, a Hungarian by descent, and a 
 Parisian by adoption. His birthplace 
 was the quaint and picturesque Flemish 
 town of Namur, and he was educated 
 at the University of Brussels. He be- 
 came almost as versatile as Leonardo 
 da Vinci. He was a painter, a pastel- 
 list, a designer, an etcher, a dry-pointer, 
 an aquatinter, an engraver in all styles, 
 a lithographer, a humorist, a prophet, a 
 visionary, an anecdotist, a traveller, a 
 botanist, an arboriculturist, and various 
 other things which need not be specified. 
 Among his earliest published works were 
 some satirical lithographs designed for the 
 "Almanach Crocodilien." These were 
 
 79
 
 FELICIEN ROPS 
 
 followed by a series of similar designs 
 on stone for the Salons Comiques. In 
 J856 he started, in Brussels, a humor- 
 ous weekly known as the "Uylenspiegel," 
 to which he contributed a large number 
 of spirited cartoons. Two years later 
 he made a series of illustrations for the 
 " Flemish Legends " of his friend Charles 
 de Coster. These drawings recalled the 
 biting caricatures of Daumier. From 
 I860, Rops, who lived for the rest of 
 his life in Paris, made countless book 
 illustrations, titlepages, frontispieces, etc* 
 Although much of his work is erotic, 
 J. K. Huysmans testifies that Rops him- 
 self was a man of orderly life, whose 
 character in no degree corresponded to 
 the candid brutality of his pictures. A 
 man's mental attitude toward women 
 must be to a great extent the result of 
 his personal experiences in relation to 
 
 80
 
 FELIOEN ROPS 
 
 individuals of the other sex. Men who 
 are helped by women, not harmed, and 
 who think of women as human beings 
 and comrades, can hardly understand, 
 much less relish, some of Rops's plates. 
 He was a hater of women and priests. 
 By the bitterness and scorn with which 
 he satirized the objects of his aversion 
 he especially endeared himself to the 
 Decadents and Symbolists, who are 
 more or less united by an affinity of 
 hatreds. Baudelaire's works have been 
 illustrated by Rops in a manner which 
 reveals an innate sympathy with the 
 spirit of "The Flowers of Evil." 
 
 Rops had a marked aversion also to 
 publicity of any kind. He remarked to 
 a friend who asked him why he did not 
 exhibit his works, "Je n'expose pas, 
 pour ne pas m'exposer a recevoir une 
 mention honorable." In this contemptu- 
 
 6 81
 
 FELICIEN ROPS 
 
 ous phrase is summed up all of his scorn- 
 ful and impatient temper toward human 
 society. Whoever looks over a collec- 
 tion of his works will find in it, ex- 
 pressed with a power which compels 
 admiration, his deep hostility to the 
 materialistic spirit of the age. In all 
 of his lithographs, as in all of his etch- 
 ings and engravings, appears the same 
 savage contempt for the meanness of 
 mankind, upon which he heaps malice, 
 sarcasm, and stinging ridicule. Appar- 
 ently he deems that the universal lust 
 of gain, the universal depravity of human- 
 kind at large, imprints upon all visages 
 and all figures alike a sinister expres- 
 sion, the mark of that all-pervading in- 
 stinct of perversity which, in the words 
 of Poe, is to be read in capital letters on 
 all faces. The artist found this lugu- 
 brious text interesting enough to absorb 
 
 82
 
 FELICIEN ROPS 
 
 him. He has, says Eugene Demolder, 
 stripped away the mask. He has revealed 
 his century with the same intensity as 
 Memling, Durer, and Jan Steen. De- 
 molder thinks that Rops was strongly 
 influenced in his youth by Gavarni, but 
 his Flemish blood tells in the direction 
 of his robustness, wherein he is a true 
 descendant of Rubens. 
 
 " Like an implacable Darwin/' writes 
 Demolder, " he has, in his plates, under 
 the white wings of Woman, so much 
 sung by the poets, rediscovered the hide- 
 ous membranes of the fossil pterodac- 
 tyles, malevolent flying reptiles, of which 
 Woman is, according to his showing, 
 the normal and diabolical zoological 
 continuation/' The virtually literal 
 translation of this pretty sentence gives 
 a just idea of the Ropsian notion on 
 the woman question, constantly ex- 
 
 83
 
 FELICIEN ROPS 
 
 emplified in his pictorial series of she- 
 devils. 
 
 To turn to a more wholesome phase 
 of Rops's art, his political and religious 
 satires, we find that, between J856 and 
 J86J, he produced some of his most 
 powerful lithographs of this order, in- 
 cluding the "Waterloo Medal/' " Order 
 reigns at Warsaw/' "Chez les Trap- 
 pistes/' etc., besides the very striking 
 picture of the " Interment in the Walloon 
 Country/' which was generally taken for 
 a lampoon of the Catholics, in spite of the 
 author's disavowal of ulterior significance. 
 
 The "Waterloo Medal," one of the 
 most stinging satires on the Napoleonic 
 ideal of military glory that the world has 
 seen, is a large lithograph. At the time 
 of its publication this terrible piece of 
 symbolism caused intense excitement. 
 In the centre of the design, a circular 
 
 84
 
 FELICIEN ROPS 
 
 medal in white is relieved against a dark 
 ground* It bears the image of a crippled 
 veteran wearing the bicorne. The 
 medal is upheld by three emblematic 
 female figures. At the left the draped 
 figure holding in her hands a huge pen 
 and a scourge evidently typifies History. 
 She is rolling up her sleeves, and wears 
 a threatening expression. At the right 
 the figure half draped in a striped gauze 
 stuff and holding a pencil represents 
 Art. Beneath the medal, France, typi- 
 fied by a third woman bearing a tricolor 
 flag with the word Patrie, is nude to 
 the waist, and defends the flag against 
 the attacks of many skeleton-spectres, 
 wearing on their fleshless skulls the 
 shakos and bearskin caps of the First 
 Empire. All the dark background is 
 filled by a multitude of skeletons form- 
 ing groups, employed in capering, fight- 
 
 85
 
 FELIOEN ROPS 
 
 ing, and dancing the dance of death. 
 Particularly noticeable is a mounted 
 general reviewing his ghostly troops at 
 the upper right-hand corner* Near the 
 bottom of the composition is a tombstone 
 bearing the inscription " Here lies Marco 
 de Saint-Hilaire." In the lower right 
 corner of the design a personage, with 
 his back toward the observer, standing 
 and looking through a field-glass, is 
 easily recognizable from his two-cornered 
 hat and his long gray overcoat. 
 
 . The publication of this lithograph 
 was the cause of a duel. The son of 
 an ex-officer of the French army gratui- 
 tously found in it a personal affront, for 
 which he demanded satisfaction on the 
 field of honor. Rops was not the man 
 to refuse this invitation, so the meeting 
 took place, but, like the majority of 
 modern French duels, it resulted in no 
 
 86
 
 FELICIEN ROPS 
 
 great harm to either of the parties, though 
 both were slightly wounded. 
 
 Rops's next attack was directed against 
 the oppressors of Poland. In the litho- 
 graph entitled "Order reigns at War- 
 saw " he represented a corpse flung on 
 the ground, symbolizing the martyred 
 nation, and the double-headed eagle soar- 
 ing above it, typifying the tyrant Russia. 
 The foreshortening of the prostrate figure 
 of Poland, semi-nude, reminded some 
 of the critics of the celebrated "Rue 
 Transnonain " by Daumier. 
 
 The lithograph called "Chez les 
 Trappistes" was a sharp thrust at the 
 monks of that order. It shows a group 
 of the brethren of various ages standing 
 before a big reading-desk and looking 
 over a book which lies open upon it. 
 One of the elder brothers is expounding 
 the text. An innocent novice listens 
 
 87
 
 FELICIEN ROPS 
 
 and looks, with open mouth. In this 
 group the artist introduces several re- 
 pulsive types of hypocrisy and brutal- 
 ity. On being complimented on this 
 work by a prominent member of the 
 Liberal party in Brussels, Rops retorted 
 that he despised equally the Liberals 
 and Catholics, neither of which parties 
 had the courage of their convictions, 
 
 It is not surprising that some of the 
 Flemish Catholics should have found 
 cause for wrath in the " Enterrement 
 au Pays Wallon," which is one of Rops's 
 most powerful lithographs. In a little 
 village cemetery a poor woman has just 
 been laid away. Her grave has not 
 yet been filled up. Standing by it are 
 her husband and her son, a small boy ; 
 and around the spot are grouped the 
 priests and their assistants. At the left 
 the officiating curate, an obese man, is 
 
 88
 
 FELIOEN ROPS 
 
 reading the prayers for the dead* He 
 is flanked by his vicars, who are re- 
 markable for the stupidity and indiffer- 
 ence of their appearance. At the right, 
 by the side of a woman who mumbles 
 a De Profundis, a clerk holds up the 
 great cross. Behind him is the sacris- 
 tan and the beadle with a candle in 
 his hand. On the same side the grave- 
 digger is shovelling earth into the grave. 
 At the extreme left a choir-boy threat- 
 ens a little dog with his holy-water 
 sprinkler. In the distance at the left 
 two bearers are chatting with a peasant 
 woman. The horizon is closed in by the 
 cemetery hedge. The solemnity of the 
 subject, the variety of the physiognomies, 
 the truth of expression, of attitudes, of 
 types, and the desolate character of the 
 landscape, all contribute to the impres- 
 sive effect of the design. 
 
 89
 
 FELICIEN ROPS 
 
 The father and son, dressed in their 
 Sunday best, are striking figures, which, 
 although their backs alone are seen, 
 reveal by the movement of their poses 
 the hopeless and pathetic expressions of 
 their faces. In the heads of the priests 
 and their assistants Rops has depicted, 
 with the mastery of a modern Goya, 
 an eternal type of peasant character, 
 robust and heavy, tenacious and nar- 
 row, shrewd and ignorant, hard and 
 grasping. Here, bowed down by the 
 weight of so much ecclesiastical pomp 
 and finery, and wearing with scant 
 grace the brilliant embroidered silk copes 
 assumed for the occasion, they grudge 
 the time taken from their rustic labors. 
 In them is embodied the physical and 
 moral character, the body, soul, and life, 
 of the peasantry. 
 
 90
 
 BOUTET DE MONVEL
 
 BOUTET DE MONVEL 
 
 MAURICE BOUTET DE MON- 
 VEL is an artist of deep insight, 
 of keen sensibility, of humor and intelli- 
 gence. He draws with all the perfec- 
 tion and conscience of Holbein, and his 
 acquaintance with human nature is 
 almost as intimate as that of Rem- 
 brandt. A fascinating and eloquent 
 historian and story-teller, he makes the 
 past live again. His lively and delicate 
 fancy makes him the best living illus- 
 trator of the lives and doings of chil- 
 dren. In France they call him 'Me 
 peintre qui dessine," and, indeed, he 
 draws with that exactitude, freedom, 
 and significance of line that suffices to 
 set him apart on an eminence. It is 
 pleasant to see that this talent is united 
 to so many genial qualities of mind and 
 
 93
 
 BOUTET DE MONVEL 
 
 heart, that it is the servant of admirable 
 thoughts, generous enthusiasms, and not 
 the mere magic of a pictorial prestidigi- 
 tateur. Boutet de Monvel represents 
 the charm, kindliness, and amiability of 
 the French character, without its acer- 
 bity and egotism. 
 
 The series of pictures illustrative of 
 the life of Jeanne d'Arc, from the time 
 of her first hearing of the voices at 
 Domremy up to the fiery death at the 
 stake in Rouen, is of a vital and poignant 
 interest. No one, whether familiar with 
 the story or not, can go from beginning 
 to end of the series without a vivid, 
 deep, and lasting impression of the gran- 
 deur, wonder, and pathos of that historic 
 drama; and it is equally impossible to 
 look at the successive pages of the thrill- 
 ing story without being stirred to enthu- 
 siasm for the heroine. She appears and 
 
 94
 
 BOUTET DE MONVEL 
 
 reappears, always the same person, but 
 constantly manifesting growth, develop- 
 ment, and expansion, mental, moral, and 
 physical, to the last chapter. Jeanne is 
 the peasant girl of Domremy through- 
 out the story, but beneath the not too 
 refined surface of her personality there 
 is a great soul, ardent and indomitable, 
 which in the hour of emergency flames 
 forth and inspires miracles of bravery* 
 Picturesque, romantic, and touching epi- 
 sodes abound. The pictures of combats 
 are extraordinary for the expression 
 of the individual fury and stubborn- 
 ness and desperation which were so 
 much more an element of victory in 
 those days than now, and for the ex- 
 pression of all the magnificent. confusion 
 and turmoil of hand-to-hand struggles. 
 Nobility and dignity, gentleness and 
 grace, piety and humility, in turn dis- 
 
 95
 
 BOUTET DE MONVEL 
 
 tinguish the Maid of Orleans, but in 
 battle she is the very spirit of War in- 
 carnate. When she recognizes Charles 
 VII. at the castle of Chinon, and kneels 
 to invoke the blessing of God upon his 
 life, she is a more royal figure than 
 any in that court. When she is on 
 her way to the stake in Rouen, and 
 begs to be allowed to stop and pray 
 at the door of a church, the pathos of 
 the very lines of her back and arms is 
 something inconceivably appealing. In 
 each composition we search out the 
 heroine, knowing that she will be the 
 centre of all interest, wherever situated, 
 and whatever may be her action. 
 
 For the church erected to the memory 
 of Jeanne d'Arc in Domremy, Boutet 
 de Monvel is painting a series of six 
 immense panels, and the first one of 
 
 these panels represents the meeting of 
 96
 
 BOUTET DE MONVEL 
 
 Jeanne d'Arc and the king. She had 
 never seen him, and, in order to de- 
 ceive her, he wore a less elegant cos- 
 tume than his courtiers, but in spite of 
 this disguise she recognized him at the 
 first glance, and kneeling before him, 
 said : " God give you a good life, 
 Dauphin/' The panel is brilliant. The 
 effect of the rich costumes of the crowd 
 of courtiers is dazzling. It is enhanced 
 by the lavish use of gold in the bro- 
 cades and embroideries. The figures, 
 which are life-size, are kept quite flat, 
 and the only relief is in the heads, 
 which present a most interesting and 
 diversified series of types, each with its 
 different expression of curiosity, disdain, 
 incredulity, or amusement. The heavy 
 features, angular anatomy of foreheads, 
 cheeks and jaws, and materialistic aspect 
 of the majority of the personages, who, 
 
 7 97
 
 BOUTET DE MONVEL 
 
 decked out in the most elaborate and 
 costly raiment, are yet so devoid of 
 the finer indications of civilization, all 
 these details are based on historical 
 study of the most searching and ardu- 
 ous nature, and have an incontrovert- 
 ible foundation in the portraiture of the 
 period. Art then, as ever, was indis- 
 creet, betrayed what the great ones of 
 the earth would have been reluctant 
 to reveal to posterity, could they have 
 realized what they were and how 
 they looked; but, belonging to a cruel, 
 ignoble, and hard-hearted generation, of 
 course they could not see themselves 
 as others saw them. In all probability, 
 they were especially proud of their worst 
 traits. 
 
 The drawings of children made by 
 Boutet de Monvel for juvenile books 
 are marvels of naturalness. In them 
 
 98
 
 BOUTET DE MONVEL 
 
 are seen types of every imaginable sort 
 of youngster under the sun except the 
 type of precocity and pedantry. They 
 are charming because they are so human, 
 genuine, and care-free. The present 
 generation of French children, brought 
 up on such wholesome and exhilarating 
 nursery pictures as these, may well be 
 envied. It is a liberal education in 
 draughtsmanship to live in an atmos- 
 phere of such illustrations. Has there 
 ever been a drawing more perfect in 
 its way than "The Fairy Tale/' in 
 which a grandmother sits by the table 
 and tells her story to three children? 
 The gesture of the grandmother's right 
 hand; the look of absorption in the 
 faces of the three auditors; the atmos- 
 phere of twilight wonderland that takes 
 the spellbound little ones out of them- 
 selves, all this is almost a miracle of 
 
 99
 
 BOUTET DE MONVEL 
 
 expression. Nothing could be added 
 to it; nothing could be taken from it* 
 
 Boutet de Monvel has painted several 
 remarkable pictures of mermaids. These 
 creatures are not stage sirens, neither are 
 they myths ; one believes firmly in their 
 existence. In the first place, they are in 
 the sea ; the element in which they live 
 is real water; the flora of the place is 
 submarine to a most slimy degree, and 
 it breathes with that soft aqueous res- 
 piration that characterizes the things 
 that live many fathoms below the sur- 
 face of the sea. The forms and motions 
 of these marine women are unique. 
 Boutet de Monvel regards a single tail 
 as an illogical termination for a mermaid ; 
 he gives his mermaids two tails each, 
 or perhaps I should say he has discov- 
 ered this to be the real form of the 
 authentic mermaid. These graceful 
 
 JOO
 
 BOUTET DE MOIWEL 
 
 creatures sleep, poised like birds in air ; 
 they glide in and out of tremulous jungles 
 of devil's aprons ; they frolic like dolphins 
 and porpoises; and the iridescence of 
 their double tails shines with a lambent 
 glow like that of goldfish and the pisca- 
 torial incroyables of Bahaman waters. 
 Though they are never still, their mo- 
 tion has no effort in it. 
 
 10J
 
 WINSLOW HOMER
 
 WINSLOW HOMER 
 
 TVTINSLOW HOMER is an abso- 
 W lutely original and national artist ; 
 he is the first exponent in pictorial art of 
 the New World. He presents the unique 
 phenomenon of an American painter 
 whose work has in it not the least scin- 
 tilla or hint of Europe or of Asia. Had 
 he never seen a European picture, he 
 would not paint otherwise than as he 
 paints. Europe does not exist, so far as 
 his art is concerned. His style comports 
 with his subjects: out-of-doors Ameri- 
 cans, big, rough, sturdy, and true-hearted 
 men, sailors, soldiers, pioneers, fishermen, 
 farmers, " in their habits as they live," 
 the stuff out of which the nation is made. 
 He understands them as thoroughly as if 
 he had made them. He presents them 
 in their integrity. He shows them con- 
 
 J05
 
 WINSLOW HOMER 
 
 quering the elements, heroic, modest, 
 grand, unconscious. In a setting as 
 vast and imposing as the ocean itself, 
 or the primeval forest, he places, with 
 nobility and simplicity, the continental 
 American type of manliness. The style 
 with which he draws this virile, rude, 
 and clean-cut historical type is directness 
 itself. So straight does it go to the mark, 
 one is not aware there is any such thing 
 as style. Art conceals art. It is as 
 easy as lying, only, it never lies. 
 
 Magnificent and memorable manifes- 
 tations of ordered power are Winslow 
 Homer's epics of the Atlantic Ocean in 
 its fury of storm. There he is at home. 
 Like the men of Viking blood, he rises 
 to his best estate in the stress of the 
 hurricane. Never, since art was born, 
 did any painter tell such thrilling tales 
 of the sea and of those who go down to 
 
 106
 
 WINSLOW HOMER 
 
 the sea in ships* Dull indeed must be 
 the man who can stand in front of his 
 marine masterpieces without a quicken- 
 ing pulse and a fresh, vivid realization 
 not only of the untamable forces of the 
 elements, but also of the sublime courage 
 of his fellow-men. He stands alone in 
 his mastery of one of the most difficult 
 of themes, the ocean in action. The 
 grasp of reality exhibited in his works 
 lifts them above scientific realism, be- 
 cause such intensity of visual impres- 
 sions cannot be brought about without 
 an emotional quickening ; in other words, 
 no art work so original and profound 
 can be constructed in cold blood by 
 means of the exercise of the mental 
 faculty alone. Therefore, he is much 
 more than a realist. There is in his 
 work romance, imagination, story ; how 
 else could he be the inspired interpreter 
 
 107
 
 WINSLOW HOMER 
 
 of the ocean, with its unlimited stores 
 of drama, heroic story and wonder, its 
 world-wide literature of human hopes 
 and fears, adventure, ambition, disaster, 
 love and hate, life and death ? Life for 
 him is full of romance and drama, but 
 he does not have to conjure up any pic- 
 ture that Nature does not hold up before 
 him, for every scene is pregnant with 
 suggestions of life, which means a strug- 
 gle. Man in his grapple with the ele- 
 ments, using his courage, endurance, 
 ingenuity, and wisdom against the blind 
 forces of the sea, the wilderness, and 
 the continent, such is his material ; 
 and to say that he is able to give us 
 some sort of hint of its greatness, to say, 
 as an eminent brother artist once said of 
 him, "he can represent anything that 
 he sees," is going very far, but not 
 too far. 
 
 108
 
 WINSLOW HOMER 
 
 The isolation of Winslow Homer is 
 entire. One may watch his work from 
 season to season without being able to 
 observe in it any trace or reflection 
 of what other painters have done or 
 thought. His peculiarity extends to 
 every detail and phase of his style. 
 Responding to his temperament per- 
 fectly, his style is the complete, fit, and 
 final exterior expression of his intention. 
 There is fate in it. He paints as he 
 must. Homer relishes wildness with a 
 fierce gusto. He is a solitary. Let him 
 interpret the meaning of the wind and 
 wave, the torrent and tempest, and these 
 things assume all their own power, 
 splendor, and beauty. Nothing less 
 than the titanic, the primitive, and the 
 natural will do for him. There is un- 
 deniable grandeur in the unbridled rush 
 and fury of his Northern cascades; 
 
 J09
 
 WINSLOW HOMER 
 
 breadth and force in his suggestion of 
 the swift gliding of the black stream 
 and the headlong plunge of the foaming 
 rapids; and a stupendous feeling of 
 desolation and solitude among the 
 tangled thickets, the giant trees, and 
 the chaos of rocks on the lonely moun- 
 tain-side. If I wished to show a for- 
 eigner how America looks, I would let 
 him see a collection of Winslow Homer's 
 pictures. Other painters might be left 
 to bring to light the pretty, graceful, 
 and tender passages of landscape; but 
 he alone would be able to exhibit the 
 majesty, the sternness, the sublimity of 
 the New World, its vastness, its freedom, 
 and its virgin wildness. 
 
 One of the most interesting groups 
 of Homer's pictures was that composed 
 of the water-colors painted on the coast 
 
 of England. These related many strik- 
 no
 
 WINSLOW HOMER 
 
 ing phases of the sailors' and fishermen's 
 lives* " The Life Brigade " was full of 
 suggestion of the rage of wind and 
 wave. The men in their oilskins and 
 sou'westers are grouped outside the life- 
 saving station* on a level bit of sand, 
 which terminates at the top of a sea- 
 wall. Against the wall the tumultuous 
 ocean breaks and uptosses huge columns 
 of white spray. The brave fellows 
 huddle close together in the lee of the 
 little building, and gaze intently out to 
 sea. where, far off. a mere speck is visi- 
 ble. a vessel in distress. The attitudes 
 of the men. the irresistible movement of 
 the billows, the flying clouds of spray, 
 the penetrating moisture all through the 
 atmosphere, the leaden gray of the 
 frowning sky, the gleaming reflections 
 in the pools in the foreground, all are 
 expressed with a decision, a strength, 
 \\\
 
 WINSLOW HOMER 
 
 a vivid actuality, which are in the high- 
 est degree admirable. " The Ship's 
 Boat" is another powerful story of 
 wreck : four sailormen are being driven 
 on to a lee shore of the most inhospit- 
 able description; their frail craft has 
 been capsized, and they are clinging to 
 its bottom and sides, submerged to their 
 armpits in the water. A monstrous 
 wave is lifting them on its crest, and in 
 another moment they will be dashed 
 upon the streaming rocks. The water 
 is drawn and colored with signal knowl- 
 edge and power. Its liquidity and trans- 
 lucence, the countless accidents of its 
 surface, the rush and whirl of its eddies, 
 and, above all, the upheaving power of 
 its movement, have been seized, com- 
 prehended, and fixed with unsurpassed 
 fidelity and breadth. In " Tynemouth " 
 
 the play of light upon the surface of the 
 112
 
 WINSLOW HOMER 
 
 sea is in effect so complete and trium- 
 phant a counterfeit of nature that it is 
 but little short of astounding to observe 
 the simplicity and ease of the means 
 used* In " Cannon Rock " there is the 
 same remarkable sense of form, with 
 the dexterity, rapidity, and supple free- 
 dom of handling which leave no trace 
 of effort. The drawing is frank, direct, 
 confident; every stroke tells; there is 
 no hesitancy, no evidence of painstak- 
 ing ; it is the joyful and free act of con- 
 scious power, as a strong man goeth 
 to run a race. "One Boat Missing" 
 represents three wives of fishermen 
 scanning the horizon from the high 
 rocky crown of a bluff. It is just at the 
 close of a storm, for the sky is charged 
 with heavy clouds which are beginning 
 to break away, and the wind still blows, 
 as may be seen by the fluttering draper- 
 
 8 113
 
 WINSLOW HOMER 
 
 ies of the women, who gaze anxiously 
 seaward. Two of them are sitting on 
 the rocks; the third stands apart, hold- 
 ing a child in her arms. The arrange- 
 ment is original and beautiful ; the figures 
 are placed in the landscape with a sure 
 perception of the relative importance of 
 each; and although for me the human 
 interest predominates, the background is 
 not a mere stage scene, but an active 
 element in the drama. 
 
 The point of view for the picture 
 called " Storm-Beaten " may be some 
 projecting rocks, not very high above 
 high-water mark, on which the waves 
 tumble with a magnificent commotion. 
 The wave which is just breaking comes 
 obliquely toward the spectator, and is 
 still unbroken at its prolongation toward 
 the right of the composition. Where 
 it has met the first obstacle, there is a 
 
 1J4
 
 WTNSLOW HOMER 
 
 concussion which makes the foundations 
 of the ledge quiver, and a vertical plume 
 of silvery spray shoots high in the air 
 above the vortex of milky foam that 
 overwhelms the point. The furious 
 combat of wave and rock assumes such 
 a vivid reality in this painting that one 
 familiar with similar displays of natural 
 forces has no difficulty in imagining the 
 accompanying sounds which constitute 
 such an impressive part of the perform- 
 ance, the mingling of continuous 
 noises, sullen, persistent, murmurous, 
 as of a multitude of voices sibilant and 
 mournful, the monotone of the ocean, 
 as the background or accompaniment of 
 the crash, the roar, the weltering out- 
 burst of liquid tones, the sobbing and 
 the laughter of the surf among the rocks. 
 "Undertow" depicts the rescue of 
 two exhausted swimmers who have 
 
 115
 
 WINSLOW HOMER 
 
 been carried beyond their depth. They 
 are women, and those who have saved 
 them from drowning are men. A sud- 
 den cry for help has gone up, and from 
 among the bathers in the surf, two have 
 been missing. A young man in swim- 
 ming trunks and a fisherman in oilskin 
 trousers and a tattered shirt have has- 
 tened to the succor of the helpless pair. 
 It may be that the younger woman 
 she in the blue bathing suit was the 
 first to find herself in actual danger. 
 Swept from her footing, a sudden panic 
 seized her, she screamed, and disappeared 
 from view. Instantly the cool and cour- 
 ageous woman in her company, paus- 
 ing only to secure a life-line about her 
 waist, plunged into the surf and went 
 to her friend's aid. The picture shows 
 how the brave deed has been crowned 
 with success. The heroine could not 
 
 U6
 
 WINSLOW HOMER 
 
 avoid the drowning clutch of her friend, 
 but her noble work has been consum- 
 mated by the timely help of the two 
 sturdy swimmers who are now bodily 
 lifting herself exhausted and the rescued 
 girl moribund to the shore. Four life- 
 size figures form the group, composed 
 with masterly skill. Beginning at the 
 left is the young man in trunks, who 
 has just got into shallow water, and is 
 on his feet, but who is bracing himself 
 strongly to avoid being knocked down 
 by the next coming wave. His is an 
 athletic figure. He raises one arm to 
 balance himself, and with the other half 
 supports and half hauls along the inert 
 form of the heroine. She manifests 
 every symptom of exhaustion from her 
 struggle, but her eyes are still partly 
 open, and she does not appear to have 
 quite lost consciousness. Not so the 
 
 H7
 
 WINSLOW HOMER 
 
 other female. She has caught her com- 
 panion about the waist with both arms 
 in a vise-like grip, and is completely 
 insensible* The end of the chain of 
 figures is composed of the fisherman, 
 who holds the unconscious girl up and 
 helps the young man bear the couple 
 toward the shore. A great green 
 wave is just about to break over all 
 four actors in the scene, and in the fore- 
 ground is the seething souvenir of a 
 surge that went before. 
 
 A masterpiece of moonlight and an 
 inspired poem of the sea is " A Summer 
 Night/* The subject is something like 
 this: the ocean, at night, seen from 
 the brow of a high cliff; a broad and 
 glittering field of moonlight reflected on 
 the tossing waters ; the shadowed curve 
 of a mighty wave about to fall and 
 break upon the rocks; on the brink of 
 
 113
 
 WINSLOW HOMER 
 
 the cliff, the sombre silhouette of a group 
 of people watching the surf ; and in the 
 foreground two stalwart girls waltzing 
 in the moonlight. The blue, purple, 
 slate, and silver-gray hues of the night 
 form a bold, rich, and novel harmony in 
 a minor key, an effect of splendid and 
 moving majesty. The movement of the 
 waves is indicated by the broadest 
 methods known to the painter's art; 
 that is to say, by the masterly suggestion 
 and summary characterization of the 
 forms momentarily assumed by the most 
 mobile of elements, the play of light 
 upon those forms, and all the accidents 
 and whims of what seems like the cha- 
 otic acme of instability. Under the 
 phantasmal light of the moon, the titanic 
 lift of the dark billow which comes 
 impending to Its crashing fall, the fan- 
 tastic shape of its crest uplifted against 
 
 JJ9
 
 WINSLOW HOMER 
 
 the lighted expanse of glimmering blue 
 and molten silver behind it, and the 
 swirling hollow weltering in its front, 
 are full of the expression of power, 
 grandeur, and mystery. The group of 
 figures is a well-composed, flat, dark 
 mass against the illuminated sea; and 
 in it is to be noted the rhythmic effect 
 of a repetition of slightly varied lines* 
 
 "The Lookout," belonging to the 
 Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, also 
 represents night on the sea. A sailor 
 who is keeping the bow watch on an 
 Atlantic liner turns his head toward the 
 bridge, and sings out the hour, with the 
 accompanying report, "All's well!" 
 Only his head and shoulders are visible. 
 He wears a sou'wester and oilskins. 
 His skin is bronzed by a life of exposure 
 to the weather, and in the dim light it 
 
 looks like bronze, indeed, rather than 
 120
 
 WINSLOW HOMER 
 
 human flesh. His mouth is open. This 
 man is not at all idealized; there is 
 something almost defiantly homely and 
 rude in the type. Were anything of the 
 roughness of the man or of the trade 
 he follows extenuated, the work would 
 not be as peculiarly characteristic of 
 the genius of Winslow Homer as it 
 undoubtedly is. It is a stern picture, 
 and the impression it makes is of pon- 
 derous solemnity. The atmosphere of 
 it is strangely unreal, but the facts are 
 hard and real. It is a new and weird 
 page from the book of the sailor's life. 
 In this canvas, which hints at so much 
 more than what appears on its face, the 
 painter shows that he has imagination, 
 and, like his other epic of the ocean life, 
 44 Eight Bells/' it resumes within itself a 
 whole volume of inspired commentary 
 on that life. 
 
 J2J
 
 WINSLOW HOMER 
 
 The Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, 
 owns another painting by Winslow 
 Homer, representing a stalwart fisher- 
 man in his dory, with several fine halibut 
 stowed in the stern, the title being, " The 
 Fog Warning/' The sea is dark in the 
 late afternoon light, and though the sky 
 is bright aloft, a fog bank is creeping 
 over the Banks. A sail is visible off to 
 the right at a great distance, and the 
 fisherman rests on his oars for a moment 
 to turn his head for the purpose of mak- 
 ing out whereaway his vessel lies. The 
 bow of the dory lifts, letting us see its 
 whole shape, as the stern settles toward 
 us, just clear of a seething wave. The 
 drawing of the wave forms is remark- 
 able for its breadth, its hint of boundless 
 force and bulk; the cold tone and the 
 sharp outlines characterize a phase of 
 
 marine scenery that is dismal and por- 
 122
 
 WINSLOW HOMER 
 
 lentous, but wholly true. There are 
 times when the sea looks as hard and 
 cruel as it does in this picture. The 
 work speaks of peril for the man, but 
 not of fear; the Gloucester fishermen 
 live tete-a-tete with Death, and danger 
 seldom troubles them. 
 
 Against the strange, wild, and stu- 
 pendous background of the Northern 
 forests Winslow Homer projects the 
 virile and sinewy figures of the hardy 
 outdoor type of fearless hunters, guides, 
 and woodsmen. We have seen his 
 sailors braving the rage of the stormy 
 seas; now we see the descendants of 
 Leatherstocking at their work. Homer 
 shows them as they paddle their canoes, 
 swift, silent, over the dark, deep lakes 
 and through the boiling rapids ; as they 
 stalk the timid deer among the tangled 
 brush and the ravines of the mountain- 
 
 123
 
 WINSLOW HOMER 
 
 side ; as they play the agile trout in the 
 velvety black pool under the dense 
 shadows of the pines overhead ; as they 
 glide back to camp in the twilight, the 
 fire shining like a beacon from the 
 wooded shore; as they wake to see 
 the banks of the morning mist rising 
 from the lake and uncurtaining the 
 splendid panorama of far blue mountains 
 looming under the moving pageantry of 
 the clouds* This work has a savor 
 which is as pungent, balsamic, rarefied, 
 and bracing as the atmosphere of the 
 Northern forests themselves. Like them 
 it is a little rough, but so strong, so true, so 
 genuine, that one dares not wish for any 
 change in it, lest some of that strength, 
 truth, and genuineness might be evapo- 
 rated in the process. And, let me say 
 once more, it is so delightfully, sponta- 
 neously, and largely American ! Europe 
 
 124
 
 WINSLOW HOMER 
 
 has nothing like this art. In these 
 scenes one breathes an atmosphere 
 which moves over virgin forests, looks 
 up to a sky which bends over no 
 other continent but North America. A 
 great feeling of freedom and bigness, of 
 wide spaces and wide opportunity, of 
 youth and hope and bounding life, per- 
 meates Winslow Homer's landscapes 
 and shines from the silvery rifts in his 
 wind-swept skies. 
 
 J25
 
 ST. GAUDENS'S SHAW 
 MONUMENT
 
 ST. GAUDENS'S SHAW 
 MONUMENT 
 
 happy conjunction of a fine stir- 
 ring motive and a great artist 
 for the world has made no mistake in its 
 estimate of Augustus St. Gaudens 
 has resulted in a masterpiece of which 
 Boston will always be proud. The sub- 
 ject was one fit to inspire the highest 
 and best art. It called imperatively upon 
 the artist for a heroic expression of mili- 
 tary valor, of moral courage, of manhood 
 in its grandest and noblest aspect. It 
 appealed to all the best sentiments of 
 chivalry, of patriotism, and of national 
 pride. It awoke those undying memo- 
 ries of sorrow and glory which dwell in 
 the hearts of all Americans who are old 
 enough to recall the Civil War. To say 
 that the genius of the sculptor was equal 
 
 9 129
 
 ST. GAUDENS'S SHAW MONUMENT 
 
 to the great theme is no mere idle phrase 
 of eulogy, nor are such words to be 
 written lightly* The conviction that on 
 Beacon Hill was unveiled in J898 one of 
 the world's few best modern works of 
 sculpture, is not to be resisted. That 
 this noble, beautiful, epic work is erected 
 to commemorate the modest but worthy 
 part taken in the war for the Union by 
 Colonel Robert Gould Shaw and the 
 officers and men of the Fifty-fourth 
 Massachusetts Regiment, is accurate as 
 far as it goes, but this is not all. The 
 true instinct of the artist has shaped 
 every line in his bronze to a typical and 
 representative meaning, so that instead 
 of being a memorial of one hero and his 
 regiment alone, it assumes a national 
 scope and significance, and becomes in a 
 sense a monument to all like heroes and 
 all kindred regiments, a widening of 
 
 130
 
 ST. GAUDENS'S SHAW MONUMENT 
 
 its purport and moral which confers 
 upon it a vastly enhanced historical char- 
 acter. This could be done only because 
 Shaw was a national type of the Ameri- 
 can hero, and his men were types of the 
 unpretentious, self-sacrificing bravery and 
 devotion of the colored volunteers. For, 
 while this broadening of the spirit of the 
 memorial does not make it a less touch- 
 ing record of the heroism of Shaw and 
 his troops as individuals, it does make it 
 a greater historical monument. 
 
 It is a matter for special gratification 
 that the monument should be a Civil War 
 monument, so deplorably wide has been 
 the chasm of discrepancy yawning be- 
 tween the subject itself and the well- 
 meant but inadequate efforts to give it 
 plastic expression. From this high relief 
 of St. Gaudens there comes at last a genu- 
 ine exhalation of the magnificent, colossal
 
 ST. GAUDENS'S SHAW MONUMENT 
 
 tragedy, the mingled splendor and horror, 
 the pageantry and squalor, the thrilling 
 romance and the unspeakable brutality, 
 of the war of the Rebellion, The so- 
 briety of the art, its deep seriousness, 
 befits the solemnity, the historic dignity, 
 of the motive. 
 
 For the first obvious quality of the 
 style of the work is its genuineness. It 
 is not realistic, but it is real; it is not 
 naturalistic, but natural. This simple, 
 almost homely, racy quality of actuality 
 is deep-rooted, staying, robust, and vivid. 
 It gives style without the conscious in- 
 tention of style ; it is the style which is 
 inherent, not a veneer, not a graft, but 
 the inevitable grace and beauty of form 
 which is the efflorescence of the grace 
 and beauty of the thought. Need it be 
 said that this is the universal character- 
 istic of great works of art ? This it is 
 
 J32
 
 ST. GAUDENS'S SHAW MONUMENT 
 
 which makes them seem so much more 
 like spontaneous growths than the re- 
 sults of toil and effort and study. This 
 ingrained genuineness, this mediaeval 
 earnestness, this perfect absorption of 
 the artist in his art, relates the Shaw 
 bronze to the divine plastic beauties of 
 Antiquity and the Renaissance by a con- 
 sanguinity closer than any similarity of 
 exterior forms. So we come back, after 
 all the subtleties of criticism, to the simple 
 old test of nature. The verdict of the 
 crowd and the verdict of the amateur 
 are at one when art most closely inter- 
 prets the truth of nature; and if this 
 truth, in its higher and larger essentials, 
 be not recognizable, there is no standard 
 for the arts. The higher and the larger 
 essentials are those traits which are to be 
 interpreted only through love, sympathy, 
 inspiration ; " not of the letter, but of the 
 
 133
 
 ST. GAUDENS'S SHAW MONUMENT 
 
 spirit ; for the letter killeth, but the spirit 
 giveth life*" 
 
 The positive qualities mentioned imply 
 what the negative qualities must be. 
 Distinction implies the absence of vul- 
 garity ; nobility, the absence of all that 
 is mean. The figure of Shaw is dis- 
 tinctly noble in bearing, and. without a 
 shadow or hint of bravado, carries out 
 the most irreproachable ideal of chivalry 
 and manhood. His level, calm gaze is 
 set forward, unwavering, as if he saw to 
 the very end and climax of his life, and 
 still rode onward as steadily as Fate to 
 meet it at the appointed hour. This 
 youthful, erect, soldierly figure, which 
 sits so well on the ardent war horse, 
 controls without effort his impetuosity, 
 and, in spite of its almost boyish imma- 
 turity, seems born to command, is so 
 fine and virile a type of American hero- 
 
 134
 
 ST. GAUDENS'S SHAW MONUMENT 
 
 ism that one cannot think of it, still less 
 look upon it, without a quickening of the 
 pulse and a thrill of pride and grief, not 
 alone for - Shaw, indeed, but for the 
 thousands who, like him, in the flush 
 of their youth, and with an equal 
 modesty and fortitude, responded to the 
 call of the nation and laid down their 
 lives joyfully upon the sacred altar of 
 patriotism* 
 
 And the black rank and file! With 
 what a wonderful sense of human pathos, 
 of fateful forward movement, with what 
 wave-like, rhythmic momentum, as of 
 marching legions tramping southward, 
 with what a suggestion of the slow but 
 irresistible grinding of the mills of God, 
 has the artist clothed these humble, 
 united, obedient, devoted, doomed men! 
 Are they not exalted by this deep, seri- 
 ous art to a plane of Egyptian dignity ? 
 
 135
 
 ST. GAUDENS'S SHAW MONUMENT 
 
 Does not the martyrdom which over- 
 hangs them ennoble them? Unutter- 
 able sadness, sublime resignation, and 
 an invincible determination is visible in 
 all these set countenances, all facing 
 the same way, all looking toward the 
 South, all intent on a great final busi- 
 ness and a glorious death. The im- 
 pression is not so much that of a group 
 of individuals as of a whole army, a 
 vast, endless, countless host, moving like 
 a huge human tide, hardly of its own 
 volition, unhasting but not to be stayed 
 short of the goal, a mere complex instru- 
 ment in the hands of Providence, rolling 
 on like a mighty flood. 
 
 The scale of the figures is a little less 
 than that of life, and the relief is so high 
 that the figures of the commander and 
 his horse stand out, all but detached 
 from the background, wanting but a 
 
 136
 
 ST. GAUDENS'S SHAW MONUMENT 
 
 slight increase in thickness to be entirely 
 "in the round/* Even the private sol- 
 diers are in such high relief that each file 
 of marching men has a projection of over 
 a foot from the deepest part of the 
 ground. There is consequently a no- 
 ticeable falsification of perspective if the 
 point of view be taken up at an oblique 
 angle, and the best standpoint from 
 which to get a satisfactory effect is 
 directly in front of the middle of the 
 bronze, not more than twenty or thirty 
 feet from the monument. So viewed, 
 the group is most remarkable for its 
 pictorial completeness, its movement, 
 and its dramatic dignity. "To rise so 
 high, yet to remain so still, so temper- 
 ate/' these words of a great critic are 
 particularly applicable to the relief. The 
 originality of it sets it apart not only 
 from the works of other individuals, but 
 
 J37
 
 ST. GAUDENS'S SHAW MONUMENT 
 
 also from all the schools of sculpture. 
 It is too real and too modern to be 
 classified as either classic or romantic ; it 
 is neither Greek, nor Italian, nor French, 
 It has so little of a foreign air that the 
 powerful traditions of the art of sculpture 
 might be said to have existed only as 
 abstract principles, to be fused into new 
 and unheard of forms by the heat of the 
 artist's creative passion. 
 
 The artistic propriety of the introduc- 
 tion of the floating symbolic figure, 
 whether of Victory, Fame, or Patriotism, 
 hovering over the hero's head, is not 
 to be questioned. The idea seems per- 
 fectly appropriate, and the form it has 
 taken, somewhat vague in comparison 
 with those of the soldiers, is quite as it 
 should be, the distinction in the manner 
 of its modelling marking the mystical as 
 
 contrasted with the actual, and stimulat- 
 es
 
 ST. GAUDENS'S SHAW MONUMENT 
 
 ing without fully satisfying the imagina- 
 tion. Such an opposition of the real and 
 the ideal in pictorial art is not by any 
 means unknown, and, given the due 
 elevation of style and the due poetical 
 feeling to carry out the contrast effec- 
 tively and without violence, the antithesis 
 is susceptible of being employed with 
 extraordinary impressiveness. In this 
 instance the apparition of a celestial Gen- 
 ius of Patriotism, guiding the hero along 
 the paths of duty and inspiring his soul 
 with courage and zeal, no more shocks 
 the sense of fitness than the supernatural 
 figures in Rembrandt's pictures. In 
 other words, what would be either 
 wearisome, conventional allegory or a 
 ludicrous parody of the grand style in a 
 commonplace work of monumental art 
 here takes its place naturally and without 
 a jarring note, and, what is more to the 
 
 J39
 
 ST. GAUDENS'S SHAW MONUMENT 
 
 purpose, really gives the coup-de-maitre to 
 the design by spiritualizing it, lifting it off 
 the ground, as it were, and giving it wings. 
 The memorial is as unique in its arch- 
 itectural form, and as pure, as in its 
 sculptural. The architect, Charles F. 
 McKim, has worked in complete sym- 
 pathy with the sculptor, and has given 
 his bronze a frame and setting worthy 
 of it, how can one say more ? The 
 conception of the terrace form was sin- 
 gularly felicitous, and, now that it is 
 realized, seems to have been the only, 
 the imperative solution of the problem. 
 I know of no monument so fitly, so 
 ideally placed. The noble trees em- 
 braced by the structure shelter and shade 
 it, and seem a part of the scheme. The 
 background, Common-wards, is of a mass 
 of verdant foliage. At all points the stone- 
 work of Knoxville pink marble, set upon 
 
 J40
 
 ST. GAUDENS'S SHAW MONUMENT 
 
 a base of Milford pink granite, is enriched 
 by well-chosen and eloquent inscriptions 
 carved in Roman capitals, which form 
 the best of ornamental arabesques, sup- 
 ported here and there by wreaths of bay 
 and well-cut mouldings, by eagles and 
 urns, used with the irreproachable taste, 
 and in the correct scale of size, which we 
 have a right to expect of the architect of 
 the Public Library* The stone benches, 
 the steps leading from the mall to the 
 level of the street above, the gracefully 
 designed balustrade, and the lions' heads 
 which serve as fountain spouts for the 
 basin set at the base of the edifice on the 
 mall, are all pleasing and well-executed 
 accessories, so that there is no uninter- 
 esting nor ugly side of the structure, which 
 is good on all sides and all the way 
 through. 
 
 J4J
 
 GEORGE INNESS'S LAND- 
 SCAPES
 
 GEORGE INNESS'S 
 LANDSCAPES 
 
 f^EORGE INNESS'S landscapes are 
 vJ of the best painted in our time and 
 country, in many instances of the best in 
 any time and country, because of the 
 qualities of temperament with which the 
 artist was endowed; and as it is these 
 qualities of temperament, revealed in the 
 work, which mark the productions of all 
 great artists and set them apart from 
 the commonplace, the mediocre, and the 
 merely clever, it is proper to inquire, 
 with a view of obtaining so much of an 
 insight as may be possible into the make- 
 up of what we call genius, what were 
 these innate qualities, the sources whence 
 sprung so much that was new and fine 
 and powerful and grand ? 
 
 JO 145
 
 GEORGE INNESS'S LANDSCAPES 
 
 Undoubtedly such an inquiry involves 
 something of a study not only of Inness's 
 own characteristics as an artist, but also 
 of the universal attributes of the artistic 
 temperament. The great human reser- 
 voirs, from which the world draws its 
 masterpieces of art as thoughtlessly as it 
 draws a cup of water from a faucet, are 
 fed by many subterranean springs which 
 flow spontaneously, freely, irresistibly, 
 always giving, joyous to be giving, with- 
 out price, but not without terrible cost to 
 the giver. These springs are the vital 
 elements of human heart and brain, 
 transmuted into material forms and hues 
 of imperishable beauty by the miracle of 
 creative passion. The mainspring of a 
 great art is the master passion of love, the 
 power of exaltation, the susceptibility to 
 a great and uplifting emotion, a divine 
 
 flight of the soul. 
 
 J46
 
 GEORGE INNESS'S LANDSCAPES 
 
 To be a landscape painter of the 
 George Inness stamp means the posses- 
 sion of a ^sensitiveness almost morbid, of 
 a power of vision extra-natural, of a sus- 
 ceptibility to certain phases of the earth's 
 beauty so keen as to nearly elevate that 
 beauty to a celestial plane; it means that 
 seeing is a pleasure so rapturous that it 
 borders upon pain ; it means to be pos- 
 sessed by a ruling passion that leaves no 
 room for any other interest, pursuit, or 
 theme under the sun; it means that 
 sickness, afflictions, poverty, hardships, 
 reverses, disappointments, are as noth- 
 ing weighed in the balance against art ; 
 it means the daily possibilities of the 
 pageant of sunrise, of high noon, of 
 sunset, of evening, glorious beyond 
 all description, filling the heart, filling 
 the cup of life to overflowing, leaving 
 only one supreme desire, to paint 
 
 J47
 
 GEORGE INNESS'S LANDSCAPES 
 
 it all, as it is, to paint it, and then 
 die. 
 
 Oh, what a paltry ambition ! says 
 the statesman. What a vain dreamer ! 
 says the soldier. What a useless ca- 
 reer ! exclaims the sailor. Don't under- 
 stand such a man! admits the broker. 
 
 But fame redresses all, justifies the 
 ambition by the achievement, makes the 
 dream yield golden revenues, proves 
 the usefulness of the artistic career, and 
 rebukes the broker's limitations. It is 
 pleasant to remember that in Inness's 
 case fame was less tardy than in so 
 many instances with which the history 
 of modern art has made us familiar, 
 such as those of Millet, Corot, and 
 other great painters of the Nineteenth 
 Century, and that his later years 
 were made serene and smooth for him 
 by the recognition and encouragement 
 
 148
 
 GEORGE INNESS'S LANDSCAPES 
 
 which are so dear to the heart of every 
 artist. 
 
 For the last twenty years it has 
 been generally agreed that no landscape 
 painter on either side of the Atlantic 
 excelled George Inness, and it is the 
 judgment of many good critics that he 
 left no peer in his art. Probably there 
 was no landscape painter living in 
 J894, when Inness died, whose works, 
 if brought together, could have endured 
 the test of comparison with a represen- 
 tative collection of Inness's pictures, 
 none who could equal him in the im- 
 pression he gives of abounding and 
 intense vitality. For there is in all his 
 characteristic works a rich, full, puls- 
 ing life, which testifies to his wonder- 
 ful power of infusing his own exuberant 
 spirit into the inanimate canvas and 
 pigments, and making them breathe the 
 
 J49
 
 GEORGE INNESS'S LANDSCAPES 
 
 very breath of nature. Thus in an ex- 
 ceptionally emphatic sense his works 
 live after him. So long as they resist 
 the ravages of time, an Inness stands 
 for a living embodiment of nature, in 
 which the sun shines with a true and 
 genial warmth, the breeze whispers 
 amongst the leaves, the clouds float 
 buoyantly aloft or lower over the earth 
 with grim menace of coming tempest, 
 and all is movement, animation, and 
 life. 
 
 150
 
 JOHN LA FAROE
 
 JOHN LA FAROE 
 
 REAT as is John La Farge's repu- 
 tation, at home and abroad, it 
 has not yet become commensurate with 
 his achievements; and as time brings 
 about a wider knowledge of art and a 
 commoner love of it, as the years to 
 come afford opportunities for study and 
 comparison, his fame must grow. In 
 every material with which he works 
 he has performed prodigies which are 
 unequalled in modern art and which 
 recall the glory of the fifteenth-century 
 Venetians. A great colorist is capable 
 of moving the springs of joy and sorrow, 
 expressing all the emotions of the hu- 
 man soul, by one of the subtilest of all 
 mediums. Color is La Farge's sole 
 instrument; on it he plays new airs, 
 improvises the most intoxicating songs. 
 
 J53
 
 JOHN LA FAROE 
 
 His touch is magic* Those who come 
 under the spell remain the willing cap- 
 tives of his necromancy. There have 
 been other colorists, but they were not 
 like La Farge, and he is not like them. 
 No one can say La Farge is like this, 
 that, or the other Old Master. He is 
 the New Master, and he is unique. 
 
 La Farge lifts one up into a rarefied 
 and bracing atmosphere, filling the 
 senses and the mind with celestial pabu- 
 lum, and bearing one in a moment, on 
 the viewless wings of Poesy, to the 
 happy isles of the South Pacific, that 
 earthly paradise where sea and land 
 are leagued in perpetual beauty, place 
 of places for the artist, the country 
 where the soul of the poet and painter 
 feels itself truly at home. In his dis- 
 covery of the wonders of these en- 
 chanted islands he has opened up for 
 
 154
 
 JOHN LA FAROE 
 
 mankind an inexhaustible mine of sin- 
 gular delight. From the hour when he 
 began to send us his water-colors of 
 Hawaii, Samoa, Fiji, Tahiti, and the 
 rest of Oceanica, he revealed to the 
 northern world a new and unspeakably 
 rich province of almost paradisaic charm. 
 To a man of La Farge's temperament 
 the tropics were needed as a comple- 
 ment; they must have awakened in 
 his blood inspirations that had been 
 dormant ; his sensitive soul could spread 
 its wings and fly aloft in the atmos- 
 phere of Upolu. So it is a happy cir- 
 cumstance that he found his way there. 
 The islands of the South Pacific became 
 fuel to feed the fires of his genius, and 
 he became their most sympathetic and 
 eloquent interpreter. How spontaneous 
 and irresistible then were his bursts of 
 summer song, tender, strong, unlike 
 
 J55
 
 JOHN LA FAROE 
 
 all others! With what power, ease, 
 and joy he set before our eyes the 
 opalescent splendors of that strange and 
 romantic island kingdom set in the 
 midst of jewelled seasl Here were 
 islets so ineffably delicate and fragile 
 that they were more like golden dreams 
 of the tropics than realities; and there 
 were majestic empurpled mountains 
 towering to the skies, their fantastic 
 volcanic peaks caressed by the light 
 that never was on sea or land, the 
 consecration, and the poet's dream ! 
 How fascinating he makes the slow, 
 rhythmic swing of the tufted palm-tree 
 in the trade wind, the liquid throb of 
 the far surf beating on the coral reefs, 
 the gurgling, splashing, frolicking of the 
 cascades slipping from the moss-covered 
 rocks into their verdant shadowy pools 
 below ! As charming in style and in- 
 
 156
 
 JOHN LA FAROE 
 
 dividuality as they are in color and 
 atmosphere, these South Sea landscapes 
 are permeated with the choicest poetry 
 and imagination ; nothing in them sug- 
 gests a task; they are the offspring of 
 a sacred love* 
 
 The melting and vaporous stains of 
 rosy dawns wafted across the tender 
 bosom of the sky something so ethe- 
 real and evanescent as to suggest the 
 tones of pearls are breathed upon the 
 canvas by La Farge with a mastery of 
 the greatest. On the other hand, there 
 is no painter known to me who has the 
 power of taking away one's breath by 
 such resonant bugle-blasts of color, of 
 making each particular hair to stand on 
 end "like quills upon the fretful porcu- 
 pine " by such thrilling diapasons of 
 color. In none of his works does his 
 genius manifest itself with a purer efful- 
 
 J57
 
 JOHN LA FAROE 
 
 gence, in none does his inspiration rise 
 to a higher plane of spiritual power, 
 than in his best stained-glass windows. 
 It is in this field that he most adequately 
 says his word, expresses his ideal, his 
 hope, his passion* It is the sole medium 
 in which he finds means to perform 
 those sublime prodigies in color which 
 make glad the heart of man. His ideas 
 are of the grand order, and, in glass, he 
 sets them forth in the grand style. He 
 makes decorations which are pictures, 
 pictures which are decorations ; and I do 
 not believe that any of the qualities 
 belonging to either picture or decoration 
 are at odds with their fellows. Reality 
 and dream blend, fact lives in fancy, 
 truth in fiction, and the masterpiece is a 
 unit, indivisible. La Farge has traits 
 which are as universal as air and light ; 
 but he has also traits which were born 
 
 158
 
 JOHN LA FAROE 
 
 with him and which will die with 
 him. 
 
 In the window of the class of J859, in 
 Memorial Hall, Harvard, Cornelia's 
 famous words, "Haec ornamenta mea 
 sunt," might be applied to the radiant 
 jewels of color in which the noble story 
 is so nobly told. But I think that there 
 is no work by any master more fully 
 informed by the religious spirit than the 
 Means window in the Mount Vernon 
 Church, Boston. Shall I dare to say 
 that it is worthy of the immortal passage 
 from the Twenty-third Psalm upon 
 which it is based : " Yea, though I walk 
 through the valley of the shadow of 
 death, I will fear no evil; for thou art 
 with me; thy rod and thy staff they 
 comfort me ? " Here is a welcome 
 vision of faith and courage, to buoy the 
 thoughts of the timid above the darkness 
 
 159
 
 JOHN LA FAROE 
 
 of that dread valley where the bravest 
 spirits need support and comfort* And 
 such a sublime landscape, hemmed 
 in by the deep blue mountainous hori- 
 zon, and canopied by the infinite trans- 
 parency of the sweet sky, is celestial 
 enough for the Good Shepherd to 
 walk in. 
 
 Every land pictured by La Farge is 
 like fairyland; it is fairyland. Strange 
 gleams issue from the dark waters of 
 lakes which lave the feet of azure tropi- 
 cal mountains. Skies quiver with the 
 memory of exquisite opalescent sunsets. 
 There is a hush, a calm, when the 
 fronds of tall palms droop and slum- 
 ber, and night impends, curtaining the 
 flame of plumage and blossom, but 
 bringing new spells and marvels in star, 
 moon, and colored darkness. Every- 
 where, first and last, the unwearying 
 
 160
 
 JOHN LA FAROE 
 
 search for expression, the lines, con- 
 tours, masses, tints, movements, and 
 contrasts that reveal and interpret the 
 inward thought, life, character, the soul 
 of things* 
 
 n
 
 JOHN SARGENT'S PORTRAITS
 
 JOHN SARGENT'S 
 PORTRAITS 
 
 loan exhibition of John Sar- 
 * gent's portraits held in Copley 
 Hall, Boston, in J899, produced a 
 state of aesthetic intoxication. The 
 mere sensuous effect of so much beauty, 
 grace, and power was overwhelming* 
 Recollections of the masterpieces of other 
 painters suffered an eclipse, were swept 
 away, as it were, by an avalanche of 
 new emotions and impressions. The 
 brilliant men were outdone; the sober 
 men were forgotten; the thinkers were 
 voted dull; and the romantic artists 
 seemed for the moment but a tinsel- 
 garbed lot of fakirs. One's whole being 
 was (it seemed) influenced anew ; the 
 earth rocked beneath one's feet ; all the 
 
 165
 
 JOHN SARGENT'S PORTRAITS 
 
 old standards of art were annihilated; 
 it took away the breath ! 
 
 But this could not last* The forces 
 that sway the world are permanent, not 
 spasmodic. Headache is the sequel of 
 too much champagne. After a while 
 we began to assert our prerogative of 
 asking questions. Reason resumed her 
 tardy reign, and one's temperature grad- 
 ually fell to the normal point. How 
 John Sargent's name will stand in the 
 history of painting is the question that 
 presented itself all too promptly. It may 
 be that it is not time to settle that ques- 
 tion, yet there are certain conclusions 
 that may be arrived at already, which 
 will at least contribute toward the final 
 and main solution. 
 
 Sargent is the most spirited, dashing 
 and brilliant of portrait painters. The 
 supreme quality of his style is its ease 
 
 166
 
 JOHN SARGENT'S PORTRAITS 
 
 and spontaneity. He has attained the 
 acme of freshness, so that his works 
 seem to have the morning dew upon 
 them ; they exclude the idea of effort or 
 fatigue; they are like flowers of the 
 incense-breathing morn. There is a 
 newness in his pictures that even Time 
 must respect. They have the most 
 delightful thing on earth, youth, 
 4 When a work seems stamped on the 
 canvas by a blow/' said James North- 
 cote to William Hazlitt, " you are taken 
 by surprise, and your admiration is as 
 instantaneous and electrical as the 
 impulse of genius which has caused it." 
 And, continued Northcote, in a passage 
 of description which applies to Sargent 
 as truly as though it had been spoken in 
 reference to his works, " I have seen a 
 whole-length portrait by Velasquez that 
 seemed done while the colors were yet 
 
 167
 
 JOHN SARGENT'S PORTRAITS 
 
 wet ; everything was touched in, as it 
 were, by a wish; there was such a 
 power that it thrilled through your 
 whole frame, and you felt as if you could 
 take up the brush and do anything* It 
 is this sense of power and freedom 
 which delights and communicates its 
 own inspiration, just as the opposite, 
 drudgery and attention to details, is 
 painful and disheartening." Nothing 
 that could be written to-day better de- 
 scribes the predominant characteristic of 
 Sargent's works. It is not a material 
 and external quality merely : it is the 
 supreme quality in the style, and verily 
 the style is the man. Painters have 
 always set an immense value on this 
 quality, and not without reason. It has 
 been illustrated most superbly by Goya, 
 Hals, Tiepolo, but never more superbly 
 than by Sargent. He is more nervous 
 
 168
 
 JOHN SARGENT'S PORTRAITS 
 
 than any of his forerunners, consequently 
 his work has more magnetism and 
 vibration. The intensity of his sensi- 
 bility is almost painful. His suscepti- 
 bility sometimes grazes the frontiers of 
 the morbid. In the legitimate meaning 
 of the word, his art is sensational. 
 
 This peculiarity of the artist's tempera- 
 ment and manner should prepare us for 
 his inequalities, the almost universal 
 concomitant of genius. When he is 
 happily inspired by a thoroughly con- 
 genial motive, like the group of Mrs. 
 Meyer and her two children, the ex- 
 quisiteness, delicacy, refinement, and 
 loveliness of his work are unspeakably 
 and unsurpassably great. It has the 
 fragility and the complexion of a flower. 
 When, on the other hand, he has a 
 subject that does not appeal to him, he 
 is brutal, and he cannot help it. He 
 
 J69
 
 JOHN SARGENT'S PORTRAITS 
 
 does not know how to dissimulate. He 
 ought never to paint men, unless it be 
 men like Mr. Penrose, the architect, or 
 Mr. Stevenson, the author. Take the 
 Wertheimer portrait, for instance, was 
 not this an unkind performance ? Most 
 of mankind cannot well afford to have 
 the raw truth told in this raw way. 
 Painters are not exempted from the law 
 of charity. The Wertheimer is incisive, 
 pungent, keen as a rapier-thrust. It is 
 text and commentary at once; it supplies 
 its own footnotes. But, though authen- 
 tic history may be written in this way, it 
 is hard on the individual victim. 
 
 The difference between the old master 
 and the modern painter can be illustrated 
 by the difference between Sargent's 
 Wertheimer and Velasquez's dwarf and 
 court jester. There is a certain coldness 
 and disdain in the mental attitude of 
 
 170
 
 JOHN SARGENT'S PORTRAITS 
 
 Sargent toward Wertheimer, which is 
 not without cruelty; but the Spanish 
 master treated his unprepossessing sitters 
 with a chivalrous kindness and humility 
 which are touching and noble. He lent 
 them something of his own nobility. He 
 was too great to despise anybody. Surely 
 there were mean traits in some of his 
 sitters; but he chose not to see them 
 meanly. I do not intend by this com- 
 parison to imply any charge against the 
 modern master ; it is purely a matter of 
 temperament. 
 
 Sargent looks upon things as they are. 
 The result of this point of view is a 
 certain crudity of statement which is 
 often indiscreet, and gives the impression 
 of harshness. He is unable to assume 
 a sympathy that he does not feel. His 
 treatment of his male sitters often grazes 
 
 contempt. He has no love for mer- 
 m
 
 JOHN SARGENT'S PORTRAITS 
 
 chants and shopkeepers* Even senators 
 and statesmen suffer at his hands* Let 
 him paint gentle ladies and children, and 
 he rises to his best estate. To his 
 simplicity of style he then adds a charm- 
 ing simplicity of sentiment, as witness 
 the Davis and Meyer groups, the Boit 
 children, Beatrice Goelet, and the Hon. 
 Laura Lister. These pure inspirations 
 bring out all that is tender, genuine, and 
 lovable in his nature. Beauty of char- 
 acter, the invariable touchstone, in life 
 and art alike, shines out from these clear, 
 luminous, and stirring pages of his art.
 
 University of California 
 
 SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 
 
 Return this material to the library 
 
 from which it was borrowed.
 
 A ooo 
 
 684 993
 
 Univers 
 
 Soutl 
 
 Lib?